


It's Office Not Orifice

by Fullmetalcarer



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bathroom Sex, Blood Kink, Brief Non-Con, Butt Plugs, Cock Rings, Come Eating, Come as Lube, Enemies to Lovers, Exhibitionism, Happy Ending, Hate Sex, Knifeplay, M/M, Meaningless business jargon that I just made up, Office Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Printer Sex, Rough Sex, Safer Sex, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Unsafe Sex, Violence, Voyeurism, Watersports, golden showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 03:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalcarer/pseuds/Fullmetalcarer
Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier.  He's arrogant, patronising, condescending and entitled.  He doesn't look like a head of department, he looks like some twink who should be standing on a street corner in too tight jeans and a cut-off tee.But the sex is great.  The angry, hate fuelled, venom filled sex is fantastic.  Until it's not.





	1. Tactical Analysis

Erik Lehnsherr hated Charles Xavier.

When he'd heard that Long Term Planning was going to have a new department head, he'd been delighted. It was a miracle Stryker had hung on as long as he had, given his incompetence and unpleasantness. Xavier was introduced by Frost, the division head, at the quarterly division meeting. Initial impressions had been good, Xavier seemed pleasant and intelligent and Erik couldn't help noticing he was extremely good looking; dark, tousled hair, pale skin, startlingly blue eyes and extraordinarily red lips. Plump red lips that . . . no, Erik shouldn't be purving on one of his fellow department heads.

Things took a turn for the worse at the weekly Forward Planning meeting. Erik was presenting.

"So, if we take a look at the strategic analysis - "

"I'm sorry," interrupted a plush, British voice, "don't you mean tactical analysis?"

It was Xavier, who was smiling at Erik in a patronising fashion.

Erik smiled fiercely back.

"No, I mean strategic analysis."

"Given the timescale we're discussing, I think tactical would be more accurate."

Erik was just about to give multiple reasons why Xavier was wrong when Frost spoke up.

"You know I think Charles is right, I think these figures are more tactical than strategic."

"Fine," Erik gritted out. "If we look at the . . . analysis we can see an unexpected spike in the K95 figures in December."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual. Erik tried, unsuccessfully, not to resent Xavier's intervention.

A few days later they, literally, ran into each other. Erik was striding round a corner at his usual swift pace when he collided with a short, dark haired man. The man was carrying a cup of coffee which shot into the air and exploded all over Erik's favourite white Hugo Boss shirt. The man cannoned into Erik and knocked him to the ground, landing on top of him and winding him. Erik lay there, gasping, hot coffee soaking through to his skin.

"I'm so sorry," said the man in the poshest British accent Erik had ever heard.

Xavier.

He rolled off Erik and struggled to his feet. He went to help Erik up, but Erik shook him off.

"Can't you look where you're going?" Erik snapped.

"I was looking where I was going," said Xavier, mildly. "You were coming round the corner rather fast."

"Are you saying it was my fault?"

"No, no, more six of one, half a dozen of the other," said Xavier, soothingly.

"On the contrary, it was entirely your fault," snarled Erik.

"No, it wasn't, but nonetheless I'd be more than happy to pay for your dry-cleaning."

"I don't want you to pay for my dry-cleaning, I want you to admit it was your fault."

Xavier gave him a dazzling smile.

"Well, I'm not going to do that because it wasn't my fault, at least, not completely."

Erik swallowed the expletives that hovered on the tip of his tongue and shoved past Xavier.

"See you around," the little shit called after him.

At the next Forward Planning meeting, Erik spotted a mistake in one of Charles' documents.

"I think you'll find that "discreet" should be "discrete"."

Xavier gave him the warmest smile he'd ever received from anyone except his mother.

"Thank you so much for pointing that out, Erik. Sometimes I'm guilty of looking at the big picture and missing the tiny, inconsequential, sorry, seemingly inconsequential details."

Erik sat and fumed through the rest of the meeting. Afterwards, Emma asked him:

"Do you have a problem with Xavier?"

"No, of course not."

"Well, you were looking at him like you were considering bludgeoning him to death with his report and hiding his body in the stationary cupboard."

"I just don't like his type, old money, entitled, privileged."

Emma's gaze hardened. Too late he remembered her background was old money, entitled, privileged.

"So sorry the existence of people like Charles and me offends you," she said, voice cold as ice, and strode off.

At the next meeting, Emma made a point of being particularly chummy with Charles.

Erik kept hearing about all the things Xavier was doing to help the Long Term Planning department, which had become pretty demoralised under Stryker, gel as a team. He instituted casual Fridays. He let people have paid time off to volunteer and do charitable work. 'Bring your child to work day' was every quarter, not just once a year. He even started 'bring your pet to work day'. He set up the "Great LTP Bake Off". He took his staff out on team-building days. The last one was a picnic for all and riding a zip-wire for the more adventurous.

It was ridiculous. Erik didn't need to buy his team's loyalty with gimmicks, he'd earned their respect through years of hard work and firm but fair management. He was passing the break room when he heard Angel say to Janos:

"And LTP are having a treasure hunt at the zoo next month. Why don't we ever do anything fun?"

Janos didn't say anything, he never said anything, but he sighed.

Fuck Xavier, fuck him and his stupidly pretty face and his obviously fake accent and his arrogant, patronising manner.

The final strychnine icing on the arsenic cake was when Long Term Planning won the half yearly productivity award. Statistical Analysis, Erik's team, had won that award three times in a row. The worst thing was when Xavier accepted the award at the traditional after work do and gave a saccharine speech saying it was all down to his team, then insisted on them joining him on the makeshift stage for a group hug and general love-in.

Erik was working late one night when there was a tap at his door.

"Come in."

It was Xavier. He'd taken off his jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat, loosened his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves. Erik's eyes were drawn, first, to the hollow of his throat and his collarbones, then to his freckled forearms and the pale ginger hairs that haloed them.

"Hello, Erik, I was wondering if we might have a chat about the B17 report before tomorrow's meeting?"

"No," said Erik, "I don't have time."

"It would only take a few minutes, half an hour at the most."

Xavier gave him a charming smile. Fuck, the little twink looked like he should be standing on a street corner in too tight jeans and a cut-off tee.

"What part of "no" don't you understand?"

Xavier walked over to his desk and had the fucking cheek to lean on it.

"Don't be like that, old chap, we are colleagues after all."

"Old chap? Who the fuck says old chap?"

Xavier was starting to look a little annoyed. Erik felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Well, I do, obviously."

"You would, wouldn't you, you fucking poseur. Did you get that accent off 'Masterpiece Theatre'?" sneered Erik.

Xavier's lips - his full, red, cock-sucking lips - narrowed. He walked round Erik's desk.

"What's your problem, Lehnsherr? You've been off with me ever since I started here and I've never been anything but nice to you."

"Nice? Yes, you're "nice" alright, with your fake charm and your arrogance and your flirty smiles. You're just a spoilt, little rich kid who can't take it if everyone doesn't love you. Now, fuck off out of my office."

Xavier's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. He grabbed Erik's chair and swivelled it round so Erik was facing him.

"And you're a miserable, bad tempered, jealous, joy sucking prick!"

Erik stood. He hadn't quite realised how much taller he was than Xavier, a good five inches. Xavier's cheeks were flushed, his hair was a mess and his fists were clenched. His too blue eyes were bright with rage.

"I told you to get the fuck out of my office."

Xavier's plush lips curled into a sneer.

"Make me."

Erik had always thought demonic possession was nonsense, but at that moment it felt as though something took him over, something rage driven, something that remembered all the times Erik had been called a yid or a kike or a fag, all the fights, all the times he'd felt out of place, the odd one out, never fitting in. And Xavier stood there, the symbol of everyone and everything that had told him he was shit.

Erik grabbed him by the throat. Xavier grabbed Erik's hands and tried to pull them away. Erik squeezed tighter. Xavier dug his nails into the back of Erik's hands and tore at them. Erik didn't let go. Xavier brought his knee up, aiming for Erik's balls. He got him on the thigh instead, but it was enough to push Erik off balance. Erik stumbled and Xavier shoved him in the chest. Erik let go of Xavier in an effort to keep his balance and sat down on his office chair, hard. Xavier collapsed on his knees at Erik's feet.

Erik stared down at him in growing horror. What had he done? OK, Xavier was an ass and Erik despised him, but that didn't justify physically attacking him. Xavier gasped for breath and stared up at him. Then his gaze dropped from Erik's face to his crotch. In a moment of sickening clarity, Erik realised that he was hard. Oh, fuck, no, no, no! Xavier met Erik's gaze again. Then he put his hands on Erik's thighs. Erik felt as though his heart was going to burst through his rib cage. Still with his blue, blue eyes fixed on Erik, Xavier leant forward and rubbed his cheeks and chin and nose over Erik's tented pants. Erik's hips jerked upwards. Xavier stilled and looked at Erik as though waiting for orders.

"Suck my cock," whispered Erik.

This was madness. Any moment now Xavier would start shouting and he'd call the police and Erik would lose his job and go to prison and his poor mother would die of shame.

Xavier unzipped Erik's pants and freed his erection from his boxers. His eyes widened.

"I'm big, aren't I? I bet you like that, you little slut, don't you?"

What the fuck? What the fuck?

"Yes," breathed Xavier.

He licked at Erik's cock, almost experimentally, as though he was testing how it tasted. Erik couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Xavier started licking in earnest, like Erik was a delicious lollipop he couldn't wait to eat, like Erik's pre-come was nectar. He nibbled the head of Erik's cock, wriggling his tongue against Erik's circumcision scar and flicking the point in Erik's slit. Now it was Erik's turn to gasp as though he was being strangled.

"Come on, get your mouth round my cock, pretty boy."

Xavier obeyed, taking Erik into his mouth and sucking eagerly. He took him deeper and hollowed his cheeks and flattened his tongue. Erik put his hand on Xavier's downy cheek and felt his cock sliding in and out of his mouth.

"You'd like me to fuck your face, wouldn't you? You're just the sort of dirty little twink who'd love that."

Xavier, mouth full of cock, nodded. Erik stood up, Xavier kneeling up to stay at the right height, and wound his fingers into Xavier's hair. He took a tight grip and started thrusting, fast and hard, with no consideration for Xavier's comfort. He choked and gagged. His pink cheeks turned scarlet. Tears streamed down his face. His grip on Erik's hips tightened painfully. Erik kept pumping. Close, so close, he was almost there and, yes, he was there. He came down Xavier's throat, then pulled back and spurted all over his mouth and chin and neck. There was even a drop on one of Xavier's eyelashes.

"You love it, don't you, you fucking love my come, can't get enough of it, you little fucker, can you?"

Erik collapsed into his chair. Xavier shoved a hand into his pants and started working himself furiously. He moaned and sobbed and convulsed and a damp patch stained the crotch of his pants. Erik closed his eyes. He felt utterly wrung out. When he opened them, Xavier was gone and his office door was swinging shut. The room stank of sweat and come. Erik sat there for a good twenty minutes wondering if he'd just had some kind of a psychotic break and hallucinated everything.

He didn't sleep well that night, lying awake and speculating on what the fuck tomorrow would bring.


	2. Proper use of graphs

When Erik arrived at work, Angel took one look at him and said:

"Oh my god, what happened to your hands?"

Erik had forgotten about the scratches Xavier had left on the backs of his hands.

"Cat."

"You don't have a cat."

"Neighbour's cat."

"Damn, it's one vicious kitty."

Erik thought of Xavier's face, flushed and tear stained and come streaked.

"Yeah."

He arrived five minutes early for the meeting as per usual. Emma arrived next, then the rest of the department heads trickled in. No Xavier. Emma waited five minutes then started. They'd just started checking off minuted actions from the previous meeting, when Xavier swanned in, all blue eyes and red lips and tousled hair.

"So sorry I'm late." His voice was scratchy.

He looked directly at Erik. "I've got a bit of a sore throat."

Was that purple mark peeking above his collar the edge of a bruise? Erik's cock twitched.

The meeting continued. They got to the B17 report and Erik answered a few questions.

"Excuse me," said Xavier, "but the data on page seven seems to me to be the key section of the report."

"Yes, obviously," said Erik, impatiently.

"I'm afraid I have to question it."

Erik could feel his temper rising. "I can assure you that the data has been triple checked and is completely accurate."

Xavier smiled. "Oh, I'm not questioning the accuracy, I'm questioning the way it's displayed. The tabular format makes comparison difficult."

"Anyone from Statistical Analysis would be able to compare data points at a glance."

"I'm sure they would, however, the audience for the B17 is not just your department, it's the whole division. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who'd find a different format would enable easier interpretation."

Murmurs of agreement around the table. Erik ground his teeth.

"If you could reformat page seven and email it out to everyone after the meeting, that would be great," said Emma.

"Fine," gritted out Erik, "what kind of graphical representation do you want?"

"Charles?"

"I was thinking parallel boxplots."

"Erik?" said Emma.

"Absolutely no problem," he replied, showing Xavier his teeth in something that could have been described as a smile.

Erik and Xavier were the last ones out of the room. Erik looked up and down the corridor. No one around. He grabbed Xavier and shoved him into the bathroom and into a cubicle. He pushed him up against the wall, trapping his hands behind his back and pinning him with his body, then wrapped his fingers round his throat. His cock hardened at the thought that he was adding new bruises to the ones he'd already made.

"How dare you, how fucking dare you. Say you're sorry," he hissed.

Xavier laughed. "Fuck you," he choked out and spat in Erik's face.

Erik tightened his grip. "Say you're sorry."

Xavier managed a strangled "Fuck off."

"I'll fuck an apology out of you if I have to."

Xavier sneered.

Erik took one hand from his throat and reached down to unzip Xavier's pants and shove them and his briefs down. Xavier was half hard. Erik undid his own pants and stroked himself to full hardness. He put two fingers against Xavier's whorish mouth. Xavier kept his lips tightly closed.

"You'd better open up and get my fingers as wet as you can because they're going up your ass in about ten seconds."

Xavier opened his plump lips and Erik stuck his fingers into his mouth. Xavier sucked and licked, tongue curling around and between Erik's fingers. Erik withdrew them. They were dripping with spit. A little drool spooled down Xavier's chin. Erik fumbled his fingers into position against Xavier's hole. He pushed in, hard. Xavier made a thin, high noise and his ass spasmed round Erik's fingers. Xavier lifted one leg and braced it against the cubicle wall. Erik started shoving his fingers in and out of his tight, clenching hole. Xavier bit his lip, brow furrowing in pain. Erik kept going, feeling for Xavier's prostate. Once he'd found it, he hit it every time. Xavier's frown unknotted and his ass relaxed infinitesimally. His erect cock bounced against Erik's, both of them dripping pre-come.

Erik tore his fingers out. Xavier whimpered. He pressed the head of his cock to the rim of Xavier's hole and fixed his gaze on his face. He tried to push in. Fuck, he was tight. Nowhere near stretched enough. Erik pushed harder and, with a slight pop, his head breached him and he slid in up to his balls. So hot, so fucking hot and the friction was exquisite. Xavier's eyes went impossibly wide and his mouth opened in a perfect "O".

At that precise moment the bathroom door opened. They both froze. Footsteps headed for the urinals. There was the sound of someone unzipping. A pause, then the noise of splashing piss. Sweat was trickling down Erik's back. Sweat darkened Xavier's hairline and his pristine white collar. Fluffy locks of hair tickled Erik's nose. Keeping still and silent was agony. It felt as though Xavier's asshole was going to squeeze Erik's cock clean off. Finally the stream of piss stopped, the guy zipped up and banged out of the bathroom.

Xavier laughed, high and shaky.

"And he didn't even wash his hands."

"Shut your dirty mouth, you fucking whore," snarled Erik and started thrusting.

He forced a choked sob out of Xavier's mouth with every violent thrust. He jerked his hips as hard as he could, pulling almost all the way out and then slamming back in. The back of Xavier's head cracked against the cubicle wall. His hole dragged on Erik's cock as he pulled out and squeezed as he pressed in.

"Say you're sorry."

"I'm sorry," he moaned.

"Say you're my whore."

"I'm your whore."

"You're my slut."

"I'm your slut, your cock-slut," he groaned.

"You love my cock."

Xavier gave a long, drawn-out sob.

"Yes, I love it, I love your cock, love it, love it, love your big, fat, juicy cock."

Erik pulled all the way out, repositioned himself and then punched in as forcefully as he could. Xavier screamed. Erik came hot and wet, buried to the hilt in Xavier. He felt Xavier's come spurting onto his belly where his shirt had ridden up. They collapsed onto the floor in a sweating, stinking, tangled heap. Xavier's head drooped forward to rest on Erik's shoulder. Erik rested his cheek on Xavier's sweat soaked hair. The cubicle echoed to the sound of harsh breathing.

Erik shifted and his cock slipped out of Xavier's hole. Xavier winced. Erik looked down. Xavier was red-raw and swollen, but there was no blood. Erik got to his feet and cleaned up as best he could at the sink. Xavier staggered after him, wiped off his cock and ass, rubbed at a couple of come stains on his clothes, splashed water on his face and ran damp fingers through his hair. Their eyes didn't meet in the mirror, not even once.

Erik left first and didn't look round when he heard Xavier following him. When he got back to the office, he asked Angel to reformat the page seven data, let him have a look at it, then send it to all the meeting attendees.

"I knew we should have done it as a graph of some kind," sighed Angel.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "You wanted it in a table."

"Angel, don't let on to anyone, but I'm not right all the time. If you think something could be done better, speak up. I may not agree with you, but I'll always be grateful for your input, OK?"

"Yes, boss," she said, looking gratified.

Erik visited his mother that weekend. She greeted him as though she hadn't seen him in years, when in fact it had been the weekend before last. She got him to do a few odd jobs about the house, then forced him to consume vast quantities of food. He didn't have to drink the sweet wine she favoured as he was driving. She regaled him with tales of her neighbours and the congregation of her synagogue. Edie had a sharp eye and a keen sense of the ridiculous, so he found himself laughing at stories of people he barely knew.

"So, the synagogue ladies, and some of the men, all baked something for the Great Jewish Bake Day. It's in aid of Jewish Care. I did apricot rugelach. They were delicious, if I say so myself as shouldn't. Liora Drucker brought this challah. Now Liora thinks she can cook, but, oh, my dear, she cannot. Her matzo are like bullets, her borekas are soggy, her latkes are so oily they slide off the plate and her sufganiyot, ugh, like pimples filled with pus."

"Mama," protested Erik.

"Have you ever known me exaggerate?"

"Only all the time."

Edie smacked the back of his hand.

"So little respect for your poor mother. Anyway, Liora's challah was beautiful, perfect. Intricate, even braiding. Crispy and golden on the outside and light and fluffy on the inside. It tasted divine. There was a little prize for the best baker and, of course, Liora won it. So, we're all tidying up, when her phone rings in her handbag. She digs it out, but along with it comes this paper bag. "Moishe's Bake Shop" it says on it. She'd bought that challah!"

Erik laughed. Edie joined in.

"What did you do?"

"Well, we all felt embarrassed for her and, God knows, it's the only cooking award that poor women's ever going to win, so we all kept quiet and pretended we hadn't seen the bag."

"You're a sweetheart, mama," says Erik, kissing her cheek.

She kissed him back.

"And when are you going to find someone to kiss you who isn't me?"

He sighed. "I do alright, mama."

"I'm not talking about sex, bubeleh, I'm talking about love. You must be over Magda by now, surely?"

"I've been over Magda for ages now."

"Such a pity, you had so much in common."

Erik smiled. "We had too much in common, that's why we broke up. Both hot tempered, both unable to back down, neither of us any good at compromise."

'I thought you might have met someone at work."

"There is someone."

What the fuck did he say that for? Surely to god he wasn't about to tell his mother about the hate sex he was having with a man he loathed?

Edie perked up. "Tell me more."

"He's very good looking. Short, pale, dark hair, very blue eyes and very red lips."

Shut up, shut up, shut up!

"He sounds like someone from a fairy story."

"Yeah, he does kind of look like a young prince. He's very clever. He's lovely to his staff. He's funny. A bit arrogant though."

Where was all this coming from? Was he channeling or something? Had aliens taken over his mind? Was Charles a telepath who was speaking through Erik's mouth?

"Nobody's perfect. When am I going to meet this young man?"

Never. We've fucked twice. Both times it bordered on violent. I hate him. He hates me. Magda and I had too much in common. Xavier and I have nothing in common.

That was the truth, but how could he say it to his mother?

"You're not going to meet him because it's nothing serious, in fact, it's nothing at all."

For a moment he thought she'd pursue it, but his mother was a perceptive woman and could see he really didn't want to talk about it. She turned the conversation to other things.

As he drove home that evening, a bulging bag of leftover filled Tupperware at his side, he made a resolution that it would be strictly business with Xavier from now on.


	3. Red is a colour scheme

Erik managed to avoid Xavier for three days. If they were in a meeting together, he didn't look at him. If Xavier entered a room, Erik left. If he saw him coming down a corridor, he turned and went the other way. If Xavier stepped into an elevator, Erik stepped out. On the physical avoidance front, he was doing great. When it came to mental avoidance, not so good.

He couldn't stop thinking about him; his eyes, his mouth, the feel of his silky skin and firm muscles under Erik's hands. His ridiculously posh voice, all rounded vowels, some words clipped, others drawled. The smell of his shampoo and cologne and sweat and come. The obscene noises he'd made as Erik fucked him. The heat and tightness of his hole round Erik's cock. The way he bruised so beautifully. How well he took a brutal fucking.

It was late one evening and everyone else had gone home long ago. Erik was testing some new layouts and colour schemes. The discussion about clarity of data presentation, much as it had angered him, had inspired him to improve the standard reports. He was standing in the printer room, watching the the big, high spec, colour printer churn out his efforts.

"Hello, Erik."

Fuck.

"Xavier."

"Have you got much to do?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, I don't mind waiting for my document."

"You could use another printer."

"This one gives the highest quality reproduction."

"I could boost your job up the queue."

"No, it's fine, I'll wait."

Erik looked at him. He wasn't wearing a suit today. He had on grey, linen pants and a lilac v-neck sweater in a very fine, soft looking wool. Erik longed to touch it. His hair, usually brushed back, had fallen forward and hung around his face. His blue eyes looked very blue. His red lips looked very red. Erik suddenly recalled telling his mother Xavier looked like a young prince.

"I saw my sister at the weekend."

"I don't care."

He carried on regardless.

"She's working in LA, so I haven't seen her for a while. She's an actress. She's done a lot of stage work and quite a bit on TV. Have you ever seen "Memories of Mystique"? She was in that."

"Look, if you won't go away, at least be quiet."

"She's trying to break into the movies now. She's got a decent role in some sci-if film. It sounds dire, but it should get her noticed. She deserves to succeed. Raven's absolutely brilliant, it's like she transforms into whoever she's playing. Everything changes, her face, her voice, her gestures, the way she moves. She used to freak me out by imitating me. It's very disconcerting to hear your voice coming from a beautiful blonde."

Erik determinedly ignored him.

"We used to argue a lot about her choice of career. It can be a brutal business, rejection after rejection, so much insecurity and pretty sleazy too. Raven turned out to be tougher and smarter than I gave her credit for. I still worry about her though, you know, protective older brother and all that."

Erik turned and walked over to him, standing so close they were almost touching. This close he loomed over the shorter man.

"Shut up, Xavier, and get out."

He gave him a shove. The sweater felt just as soft as it looked and Xavier's body felt lithe and firm beneath it. Xavier staggered back a step. Then he walked over to the printer, picked up Erik's neatly collated documents and hurled them into the air. Paper wafted around them like huge, multi-coloured snowflakes and settled on the floor in bright drifts. Erik stood there, shoes buried in graphs and tables, gaping like a fool. Xavier started laughing. Comforting rage welled up in Erik, warming and energising him.

Erik slapped Xavier's face, hard. His head snapped to one side and his cheek started to redden. He lashed out at Erik, but Erik was too quick. He caught his wrist and whirled him around, slamming him against the printer. Erik pressed his chest and hips against Xavier's back and buttocks, bending him over the machine. Xavier struggled fiercely, but Erik used his superior leverage to keep him trapped. He subsided, panting.

Erik pulled down the grey, linen pants and the bright blue - blue, like his eyes - briefs beneath. His buttocks were perfect. Pale, round globes, haloed with the finest down, begging to be touched. Erik smoothed his hands over pristine flesh. Xavier moaned. He needed to mark him. Erik dragged his nails slowly and carefully across one buttock, scoring it with neat, red lines. Xavier twitched. He bent and licked the marks he'd made, then transferred his attention to the other buttock and sank his teeth into the firm flesh, as firm as a ripe apple, leaving a circular bite mark. He bit down again, deeper this time, teeth just breaking the skin enough to paint his tongue with the hot, ferrous taste of blood.

"Erik, oh fuck, Erik," moaned Xavier.

"You need to be punished," said Erik, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Yes, yes, I do."

Erik brought his hand down on Xavier's ass. Xavier made a breathy "ah" sound. Erik kept spanking him, concentrating on one buttock, then alternating between them, changing the frequency of his blows and the strength. Some were little more than a pat. Others made Xavier's ass jiggle with the force of the strike. By the time Erik had finished, Xavier's buttocks were bright red and burning hot, his eyes were sparkling with tears and Erik's hand was stinging.

"I'm not finished yet," he whispered in Xavier's ear.

He grabbed an eighteen inch ruler from the table and struck Xavier with it. The ruler left a deeper red stripe on the rosy flesh. Xavier tried to choke down a scream. Erik gave him six of the best on the ass and then across the back of his thighs. Xavier couldn't stop himself crying out. Erik parted his cheeks to expose his asshole. He smacked the ruler against his pucker, making Xavier's whole body shudder. He was desperate to get inside him.

"Don't move," he ordered.

He strode out into the office, heading for Angel's desk. Yes, there is was, a tube of hand lotion. He almost ran back to the printer room. Xavier was exactly as he'd left him, bent over the printer, pants around his ankles, ass glowing as red as a stop light. Erik licked and kissed the abused skin. Xavier whimpered.

Erik squeezed lotion onto two fingers - god, it smelt floral - and pushed them into Xavier's ass. He wriggled and whimpered some more. Erik prepped him as quickly and efficiently as possible. He withdrew his fingers, slathered lotion over his prick and shoved in. Ah, he felt like hot velvet, clenching on Erik's cock. Erik stilled to savour the moment; the smell of anal musk warring with the floral lotion, the sweat soaking the back of the lilac sweater, Xavier's thick and silky hair, wrapped around Erik's fingers, the sharp bone of his hip under Erik's hand and, oh god, the almost painful tightness gripping his prick.

He started thrusting; long, strong strokes. Xavier cried out on every stroke, as Erik's groin and balls slapped his smacked ass.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it."

"Tell me how it feels."

"It burns, it hurts, so full, so stretched, oh, fuck, the drag of your cock, perfect, perfect," he trailed off into sobs and incoherent mumbling.

Erik upped the pace. God, Xavier took it like a pro, he was born to be fucked, to be filled, to be used. Xavier shoved a hand between the printer and his groin. From the motion of his arm, he was frantically wanking himself. He threw his head back, yelled "Erik!", shuddered and came. As he did, his ass clamped on Erik like a vice. Erik came, cock pulsing come into Xavier's hole.

He slumped on top of Xavier. He was breathing like he'd run a marathon and sweating like he was in a sauna. Erik closed his eyes for a moment. Under him, Xavier was a perfect combination of soft and bony and muscular. Erik opened his eyes, pushed himself upright, pulled up his boxers and pants and leant on the table. Xavier straightened up and tore some sheets off the roll of paper towel used for toner spillages. He went to wipe his ass.

"Stop," said Erik, "give me that."

Xavier hesitated, then handed Erik the paper towel. Xavier bent over, parted his ass cheeks and squeezed his rectal muscles. Come and lotion spurted out of his ass and onto the towel. Very gently, Erik slipped a finger into his slimy hole. Charles sighed. Erik eased his finger out and wiped it on the towel. Charles pulled up his pants. They looked at each other.

"My ass smells like my great-aunt's underwear drawer," said Charles.

Erik was startled into a laugh. Charles smiled at him. It was a small smile, but a genuine one. It was . . . dangerous. When the fuck had he started thinking of Xavier as Charles?

Erik dashed out of the printer room, grabbed his coat and briefcase from his office and damn near sprinted for the elevator. As the doors opened, he thought he heard Xavier calling. He leapt in and jabbed repeatedly at the button that closed the doors. As they slid shut, he got a glimpse of Xavier's face through the gap. He drove home too fast, cooked pasta that he ended up leaving, watched TV without seeing a thing and went to bed to lie sleepless and full of foreboding.


	4. SWOT Analysis

That evening Erik did a SWOT analysis on fucking Xavier. He stuck a sheet of flip chart paper to the fridge with a couple of magnets. He wrote "Fucking Charles Xavier" at the top, then he crossed out the "Charles" and underlined the remaining words. Twice. He drew a vertical line down the middle of the paper and a horizontal one across it. He wrote "Strengths" in the upper left quadrant, "Weaknesses" in the upper right, "Opportunities" in the the lower left and "Threats" in the lower right. He gave himself five minutes to think, then started filling it in. After fifteen minutes he took a look at what he'd written.

**Strengths**

  * The sex is amazing 
  * It burns off frustration 
  * It burns off anger 
  * I'm nicer to my staff, therefore, improved staff morale, therefore, improved productivity. 
  * It really is amazing, the sex, amazing!!! 



The penultimate one was quite true. If someone made a mistake, instead of tearing them a new one, Erik now explained where they'd gone wrong and helped them to understand how to avoid making the same mistake in the future.

**Weaknesses**

  * Xavier is arrogant, patronising, condescending, privileged and entitled. 
  * I hate him 
  * We could have broken a very expensive printer 
  * He threw my papers on the floor 
  * He criticises ~~me~~ ~~my work~~ my team's work 
  * Frost hates me even more than she already did because what I said to her about him (see first bullet point under this heading) applies to her too - BITCH! 



**Opportunities**

  * A real relationship? 
  * If we had a real relationship, it would make my mama very happy. 
  * If we had a real relationship, we could have sex even more frequently. 
  * If we had a real relationship, we wouldn't have to sneak around. 
  * If we had a real relationship, we wouldn't have to fuck in the office - IS THIS REALLY A BENEFIT/OPPORTUNITY? 



**Threats**

  * If we had a real relationship, we could have a real break up - VERY STRONG THREAT! 
  * Getting caught 
  * Formal disciplinary tribunal 
  * Black mark on record 
  * Possible hindrance to future promotion 
  * If wanted to move jobs, black mark would have to be disclosed to potential employers 



Erik considered his work. He couldn't help feeling he was being slightly unfair to Xavier. Under **Strengths** he added:

  * Xavier is smart, funny, kind to his staff, loves his sister. 
  * I like him a very little bit??? 



It all looked very evenly balanced. He wasn't sure the SWOT had helped at all and he'd put "amazing sex" twice. Perhaps he should do some sort of cost/benefit analysis? Erik sighed. The truth of the matter was that he wanted to carry on having amazing sex with Xavier and, despite his best efforts, he was starting not to hate him so much.

The next morning Angel greeted him with:

"Boss, what happened in the printer room? It took me and Janos half an hour to clear up."

"Ah, yes, the printer started shooting paper all over the place like a, like a, like a paper shooting thing."

Angel frowned. "It's been working fine so far. Should I call out the engineer?"

"No, no, I managed to fix it."

Angel looked dubious. He felt he owed her some explanation for leaving such a mess.

"I had to rush off, I had an emergency."

Angel looked at him like she was expecting more. He said nothing.

"Hope everything's OK, boss?"

"Yes, yes, everything's fine now."

Erik avoided the printer room for the rest of the day.

He came in that Saturday to do a bit of extra prep for the big half yearly meeting on Monday. He could have done it at home, but he liked the discipline of coming into the office. He was tapping away at his keyboard when the door opened. Xavier strolled in like he owned the place. He was wearing jeans and, god, they were so tight they must have been playing havoc with his circulation. His white tee was over large and falling off his shoulder. His hair was a disaster, sticking up in all directions.

"Hello, Erik. I thought I was the only one in on our floor. Preparing for Monday by any chance?"

"Yes, so I'd appreciate it if you'd go. Now."

"Don't be like that." He walked over to the desk, round to Erik's side and perched his ass on the edge.

"I'm always like this. You should be used to it by now."

Xavier laughed. His eyes crinkled and he flashed his teeth.

"I am used to it. Weirdly enough I rather like it."

Erik didn't know what to say.

"Besides, you've got something I want."

Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Your massive cock."

Erik burst out laughing.

"No pretence about wanting to discuss a report, or printing a document, or making helpful suggestions to improve my reports?"

He grinned, bright and tempting as a fallen angel.

"Oh, I think we're beyond that, don't you, darling?"

Erik had a sudden vision of his SWOT analysis, all the pros and cons neatly itemised. It didn't make the slightest bit of difference. He wanted to fuck Xavier no matter what.

"Alright, you want it, you can have it. Strip."

Xavier's grin broadened. He kicked off his shoes and tugged off his socks. He slowly eased down his zip, then turned, stuck out his ass and peeled his absurdly tight jeans off. He inched his briefs down, looking over his shoulder at Erik as he revealed more and more pale, firm flesh. The two bite marks Erik had made were still just visible on one buttock. He grasped the bottom of his tee and pulled it over his head, mussing up his hair still further. His back was a poem of muscle and bone, speckled with freckles on the shoulders. He turned. His upper body was compactly muscled, chest almost hairless, nipples startlingly dark against his white skin. A trail of dark hair led to his groin. His cock wasn't as large as Erik's, but it was a decent size and beautifully proportioned. His thighs were wonderfully sturdy.

Erik took a deep breath.

"Sit on the desk in front of me."

Xavier climbed onto the desk and sat, legs wide apart, in front of Erik. He had a perfect view of his cock. Erik opened his desk drawer and took out a tube of lube.

Xavier chortled. "Aren't you the good Boy Scout."

"Shut up and prep yourself," ordered Erik.

Xavier took the lube and slathered some on his fingers. He put his bare feet on the arms of Erik's chair, one arm behind himself for balance and tilted his hips. Erik could see his hole, a dark pink furl of flesh, tight and inviting. Xavier positioned his finger and pushed in. Erik's eyes were fixed on Xavier's ass opening around his finger. Xavier groaned and started finger fucking himself. Erik could hear a slight squelching. Xavier added another finger and started twisting and scissoring. He moaned and jerked his hips. Erik leant forward and added two of his fingers to Xavier's.

"Oh, oh, Erik, Erik, yes, Erik, yes," gasped Xavier, fucking himself on their fingers.

Erik was getting hard from the feel of Xavier's fingers sliding against his and the tight grasp of his asshole. Xavier was hard too, rosy cock bobbing with every movement.

"Fuck, you could take a whole fist, couldn't you? Maybe next time. Now, get off the desk and get on my prick."

He pulled his fingers out and undid his zip, popping his erect prick out. Xavier withdrew his fingers and knelt on the chair, legs on either side of Erik's thighs. He took hold of Erik's cock and pressed it to his hole. He sank down in one smooth motion. They both groaned. Xavier wriggled his hips, taking Erik in just a fraction of an inch more. Their breathing was harsh in the silent office. Erik could smell Xavier's hair, it smelt a little greasy, like he hadn't washed it for a few days. He could smell his sweat, earthy and salty. Xavier put his hands on Erik's shoulders. Blue eyes met grey. Red lips parted in a filthy smile.

"God, you are the most perfect little slut, aren't you?"

"Only for you, Erik, only for you."

He pushed up with those splendid thighs, then sank down slow, slowly, slowest, clenching as he eased down on Erik's cock. Erik made a choked noise. Xavier gave a satisfied "mmm". He did it again and again. Erik put his hands on Xavier's sweat gilded thighs, feeling the muscles flex and work under his fingers. There was something unbearably sexy about Charles being stark naked and Erik being fully dressed in jeans and button-down. His shirt was glued to his body with sweat. Rivulets of sweat were trickling down Charles' torso. He upped the pace, bouncing up and down on Erik's prick.

Over his shoulder Erik saw the door open. Emma Frost stood there, silhouetted against the light.

"Stop, Charles, stop, stop, stop," hissed Erik.

Charles looked dazed, but stopped.

Emma walked over to the desk and sat on the corner. Charles was so startled he almost, but not quite, jumped off Erik's cock. They both stared at Emma, who gazed calmly back.

"You have a choice," she said, voice even and steady, "you can stop and I'll report you, or you can keep going and I'll watch."

Erik gaped at her like the village idiot.

"OK," said Charles, with a saucy little grin.

"Wha-" began Erik, but got no further because Charles lifted off his cock entirely, then slammed down hard enough to make the chair bounce. Erik's vision whited out. Charles resumed his assault on Erik's cock, up and down, up and down, clenching and rotating his hips. Out of the corner of his eye Erik saw Frost slip a hand under the waistband of her skirt and saw the pristine white material crinkle and move over her crotch.

Charles' cock was slapping against Erik's belly, spattering his shirt with pre-come. Erik wrapped his hand round him and started pumping.

"That's it, my little whore, my little cock-slut. You dirty little fucker, you love it, don't you, being stuffed full of cock, being rammed up the ass by my cock."

"Yes, I love it, I love your cock, I'm a slut for it. Come in me, Erik, fill me up, fill me with your come, I want it to leak out my arse all night, all the next day, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"

Erik's balls tightened and he shot his load into Charles with a shout. His fingers clamped on Charles' prick and he spurted all over Erik's shirt. Shudders shook them both as they came. Distantly he heard a gasp from Emma. His head fell forward onto Charles' chest. Charles rested his chin on the top of Erik's head.

"Well, boys, that was quite a show."

They both stared blearily at Emma. Apart from a couple of spots of colour in her cheeks, she appeared entirely unaffected.

"You know, you two could have a great career in porn."

She stood. "If I ever catch you fucking in the office again, I'll haul you up before a disciplinary board. So, better learn to be a tad more discreet."

She walked towards the door. "Oh, Erik, would you do a drill down into the 2015-2016 figures for the XM range. I'd like it on my desk by close of play on Wednesday please."

Stunned, Erik nodded.

"Charles, I need to talk to you about the intern programme. Could we meet in my office at 2pm on Tuesday?"

"No problem," said Charles, voice shaking slightly.

The door closed behind her, leaving nothing but the fragrance of expensive perfume and the faintest scent of her juices.

They looked at each other. Charles started laughing. Erik joined in. They laughed till they cried. They laughed until Erik's prick slipped out of Charles' ass. That made them laugh some more. When they'd finally calmed down, Charles wiped the tears from his eyes and said:

"I think she's the most unflappable person I've ever met."

Erik smiled. "Unflappable. That's a very Xavier word."

Charles smiled. Erik felt a surge of fondness for him, siting there on Erik's lap, naked, sweating, come soaked and smiling so warmly. Erik felt an equally strong surge of panic. He stood up. Charles yelped and slid off his lap.

"Well, I've got to get on with my prep for Monday. Wasted enough time already. You'd better get working too, unless you want to look like an idiot, well, more of an idiot at the meeting."

Charles looked like he was going to say something, then didn't. He got dressed while Erik wiped himself off with some tissues. Erik stared typing away. It was complete gibberish, but Xavier couldn't see that from where he was standing. Xavier paused in the doorway. Erik bent his head low over his screen. When he looked up again, Xavier was gone. Erik stayed in his office for a couple more hours, but he didn't do another stroke of work.


	5. Fifteen minute meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for ab2478, who gave me the idea and is also responsible for the previous chapter where they get caught . . .

Erik went on-line on Sunday and made a couple of purchases. He phoned his mother, who griped about Mrs Bloch cheating at poker and asked if he'd got anywhere with that nice boy from work. 

"Yeah," thought Erik, "I got right up his ass."

What he said was, "I'm taking it slow, mama."

"Don't take it too slow, sweetie or someone else will snap him up."

That was something which had been preying on his mind. Charles was devastatingly attractive. Erik had seen plenty of women and men look at him with speculation in their eyes. Charles was bi too, so it wasn't just the guys Erik had to watch out for. What he had planned for next week should show Charles who he belonged to.

The big Monday meeting went smoothly. Emma was her usual cool, capable self and showed by neither word nor deed that she'd caught Charles bouncing on Erik's prick. Charles was polite and friendly and flirted indiscriminately. Erik was going to have to teach him a lesson.

When Charles came out of his Tuesday afternoon meeting with Emma, Erik was waiting for him.

"Xavier, I'd like you to have a look at our DOFP projections for 2018-2019. Could you come to my office?"

"Of course."

They walked side by side down the corridor. Erik ushered Xavier into his office and shut and locked the door behind him.

"Hands and knees," he said.

Charles hesitated. Erik slapped him across the face. He put a hand to the rapidly reddening skin and then got down on the carpet on his hands and knees. Erik got a couple of small packages and the tube of lube from his desk drawer. Charles watched with huge eyes. Erik knelt down behind him and pulled Charles' pants and briefs down to his knees. He slapped Charles ass a couple of times, just to see the lovely colour bloom in his cheeks. He unzipped himself and rubbed his cock against Charles' hot flesh, rutting in his butt crack. He unwrapped one of his packages, lubed it up and slid it into Charles' hole.

"Oh, fuck, fuckfuck, fuck, fuck," he groaned, as the bunch-of-grapes butt-plug penetrated him.

Erik stuck it all the way in, then paused to admire the glossy black end of the plug against Charles' reddened cheeks. He pulled it out so the widest point was stretching Charles open. Charles moaned. Erik fucked him with the plug, slow and leisurely, sometimes stopping entirely and making him wait.

"Please, Erik, please."

"Please what?"

"Need more," he whimpered.

"You'll have to be more specific, Charles."

"Need your cock," groaned Charles, pressing back on the plug and wiggling his hips.

"Beg me for it."

"Please, Erik, I need your big cock, need it in me, need it up me, need you to fuck me till I cry."

"Hmm, I'm not sure you deserve it, but you're so desperate I'll take pity on you."

He pulled the plug out with a pop and slotted himself in. He snapped his hips, jolting Charles and making him cry out.

"Keep it down unless you want the whole office to hear. Maybe you do, maybe you'd like them to come and watch while you get reamed. Maybe you'd like them to take turns. Angel could use a strap-on."

"Noooo, only you, only your cock."

His voice shook as Erik thrust into him like a man possessed, inching him up the carpet. Erik's fingers dug into his hips. He'd have hand shaped bruises on that white skin tomorrow. Erik fumbled open the second package and reached for Charles' cock. He was completely hard. Erik flicked the cock-ring round the base of Charles' prick. Charles made a sort of strangled noise. Erik fucked him even harder, cannoning into him, fresh slapping obscenely on flesh, the smell of sex thick in the air. Charles started clenching in bursts, pulsing his rectal muscles. Erik leant forward, sank his teeth into the soft nape of Charles' neck and came deep, deep in Charles' ass.

Charles fell forward onto the floor, Erik on top of him. Erik took a moment to recover from the star bursts in his head and groin. He pulled out very, very carefully, then parted Charles' cheeks and slid the butt-plug in, sealing his come in that lovely, plush ass.

Charles rolled over. His cock was bright red, rigid as a steel rod and leaking pre-come. The cock ring had stopped him coming.

"Stay on the floor," ordered Erik.

He cleaned himself up and opened the windows in an effort to get rid of the smell. He strolled over to Charles, who looked both ridiculous and pornographic, with his pants round his knees and his red cock sticking up.

Erik placed his Tod's shod foot on Xavier's cock and gently pushed down. Charles sobbed.

"Let me come, Erik, please let me come."

Erik tapped his foot on Charles' erection. A single crystal tear trickled down his downy cheek.

"I'll let you come after our next meeting. You'll wear the plug and the cock-ring throughout of course."

"I can't, Erik, I can't."

Erik lightly ground his leather sole on Charles' cock. He was shaken by a whole body shudder.

"Do it for me, Charles," he said, softly.

Charles' tear bright blue eyes focused on him.

"For you, Erik, I'll do it for you."

A few minutes later they were sitting across from each other in one of the smaller meeting rooms. There were only five people in the meeting, including them, and it never lasted much more than quarter of an hour. Charles had walked in very gingerly, holding his folder in front of his groin. He had sat down slowly and carefully and had given an audible gasp when his ass hit the seat. His forehead was covered in a light sheen of sweat, his pupils were dilated and his cheeks were flushed. He kept shifting in his seat and making little noises. Erik was getting hard again, just from the thought of the cock-ring round Xavier's prick and the plug keeping his come inside him.

"As you can see," he said, a tremor in his voice, "we have taken into account the projected changes in our customer base and ongoing alterations in patterns of client engagement. We estimate a variance of plus or minus 4%."

"Any more questions? No? Short and sweet, that's how I like my meetings," said Nakamura.

"I have a question," said Erik.

Charles gave him a look of burning reproach.

"If we turn back to page five and look at the data gathering methodology, I think it's clear it's changed since the previous year. Has that been corrected for going forward?"

"Yes," snapped Charles.

"Including the Phase IV figures?"

"Of course." A drop of sweat rolled from his temple, down his cheek and trembled on his lovely jawline.

"What about the exponential smoothing applied at the Year 3 break point? Does that cater for historical errors and the associated recalibration?"

Charles clenched his teeth.

"I'd be happy to answer your questions outwith the meeting, since everyone else seems satisfied."

"Good idea," said Nakamura.

It had been twenty minutes since Erik put the cock-ring on Charles and he looked wild eyed and on the verge of losing it. They both walked, well, Xavier staggered, into the men's washroom. They had it to themselves. Erik pushed him face first against the door, unzipped his pants, reached into his briefs and flicked off the cock-ring. Charles let out a long, relieved breath. Erik pulled his pants and briefs down and ripped out the plug. Charles convulsed in his arms. Erik shoved his cock in, using nothing but his own come for lube. He rammed into him, brutal and relentless. He grabbed Charles' cock and pumped it frantically. Charles came hot and wet on his fingers and against the bathroom door. Erik came a moment later, shooting a second load of come into Charles.

Their knees gave way and they collapsed onto the tiled floor. Erik lay there, limbs tangled with Charles', head spinning, pulse racing, chest heaving. Gradually he returned to himself. He parted Charles' buttocks and pressed on the flesh around his red, swollen hole. Two helpings of Erik's come dribbled out. He scooped it up in his hand and put it to Charles' mouth.

"This is what was inside you, my come. Clean up your mess."

Charles gazed into Erik's eyes. Slowly, carefully and thoroughly he lapped the come from Erik's hand, sucked his fingers into his mouth one by one and licked his palm clean. Erik felt a warmth in his gut.

They stared at each other.

"Erik," said Charles softly, "I've been thinking about - "

The door cracked against his back. For a moment they froze, then they both pushed back.

"Hey, what's going on?" called a voice from outside.

Erik made a helpless, what-the-fuck-do-we-do-now gesture.

"Maintenance," yelled Charles, putting on a hilarious American accent. "We got a flood in here."

"Well, you should put up a notice outside," complained their unseen companion.

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir, I'll get right on it."

The unwanted visitor walked away, grumbling.

They giggled like a couple of schoolgirls.

"Quick thinking, Xavier."

"Why, thank you, Lehnsherr."

"We'd better get out of here."

"Yes, we had."

They quickly spruced themselves up, peeked round the door and stepped into the corridor.

"Er," said Erik.

"Um," said Charles.

Erik couldn't meet Charles' eyes. Charles seemed on the verge of saying something.

Janos walked round the corner, swayed elegantly past them and went into the bathroom.

Charles pulled himself together, gave Erik a very strange, almost painful smile and walked off down the corridor. Erik watched him until he was out of sight.


	6. Interpersonal interaction

Erik didn't see Charles the next day or the day after. On Friday he went to Charles' office. He wasn't there. Erik stalked up to Alex's desk.

"Where's Xavier?"

"On leave."

"On leave?"

"Yeah."

"Doing what?"

Alex shrugged in a truculent way. "Dunno."

Sean, an amiable redhead, who looked permanently out of it, but occasionally came up with great ideas, said:

"Personal stuff, you know, family matters."

"What kind of family matters?"

Sean shook his head. "Didn't say, man."

Erik walked slowly back to his own office, wondering what personal "stuff" was occupying Xavier. He couldn't help remembering when his mother was ill.

He spent the weekend with her. She told him he should be off enjoying himself with other young people - "Mama, I'm thirty three" - but was obviously glad to see him. The weather was nice so they spent quite a lot of time in the garden. Edie got him to do the jobs she found difficult. He pruned the big old lilac and the rampant white buddleia. He dragged the worst of the perennial weeds out by the roots. He re-cemented a section of the path that had come loose. He took the prunings and weeds to the local composting centre. He and Edie sat in the shade of her rose arbour, surrounded by pink, white and golden flowers which filled the air with scent. They drank homemade lemonade and chatted idly.

"So, have you asked this boy at work out yet?"

"No, mama."

"Why not?"

Erik sighed. "What if he says no?"

Edie looked indignant. "Why should he say no? You're handsome, healthy, solvent and a sweetheart. What's not to like?"

"I'm also hot tempered, suspicious and cynical."

"And loyal and brave and, under all that prickliness, kind."

Erik smiled. "Don't you think you might be a bit biased?"

"Nonsense, I'm perfectly impartial. Ask him, bubeleh, if he says no, he says no, but he might say yes. Either way, if you don't ask, you'll never know."

Erik leaned across and kissed her soft, lavender scented cheek.

"You're right, mama."

"Of course I am, I'm always right, I'm your mother."

Erik laughed and proceeded to bring up all the occasions when she'd been wrong, including; telling him a purple suit with a magenta shirt looked sophisticated, putting a pat of butter to soften in the microwave without removing the foil wrapper and trying to set him up with Daniel Gerson who turned out to be very, very straight indeed.

Erik went back to work determined to ask Xavier out. He'd ask him to come have a coffee. Somewhere quiet, where they could talk. He wanted to know all about Charles and, unusually for him, he wanted to tell Charles about himself. He imagined Charles tangled in his magenta bedsheets, the one splash of colour in his grey, orderly apartment, hair every which way, cheeks pink with sleep, blinking and smiling blearily at Erik. He pictured him pottering round the kitchen, dressed in nothing but one of Erik's too big shirts. He saw him cluttering up Erik's sterile spaces with books and papers and teacups (his office was a tip). He imagined him sitting under the rose arbour, drinking tea with Edie.

Charles didn't come back to work until Thursday. Erik asked him to come discuss the algorithms currently being used in the Sentinel project. As soon as the door shut behind Charles, he swept him off his feet and onto the sofa. First some nasty sex, Erik had been jerking off all week thinking about it, then he'd ask him out.

Charles fell onto the sofa, resistless. No fighting, no swearing, no smart alec remarks. He was looking tired and drawn, shadows under his eyes and lines of strain round his mouth and across his forehead.

"What's wrong?"

There was a long silence.

"My mother died," said Charles in a small voice.

Erik said nothing, transported back to those dark days when it had looked like the cancer would win and Edie wouldn't make it. He pressed himself against the back of the sofa beside Charles. He wrapped his arms round him.

"It was cirrhosis of the liver. She was an alcoholic. She wasn't a good mother. It wasn't her fault. She never wanted children, but that was what you did, you got married and you had children, so that's what she did. Perhaps if I'd been different she could have loved me, not so geekishly, nerdily intelligent and, later, not bisexual. She really loved my father and when he died she started drinking heavily. Her second marriage just made thing worse, he was a complete arsehole. I always thought that she might come to love me as an adult if I could just be good enough, if I made a success of my life. And now she's gone. She'll never love me. And . . . and I hate her for that, I hate her. It's too late, it's all too late."

He started crying. Erik held him as his body shook with sobs. He stroked his hair and kissed his brow and muttered soothing Yiddish phrases. Eventually he quietened. Erik pulled the handkerchief from his top pocket and handed it to him. Charles scrubbed his face and blew his nose. He wasn't a pretty cryer. His eyes were swollen and red, his face was blotchy and his nose was dripping with snot. He couldn't have looked more beautiful in Erik's eyes.

Erik kissed his forehead, then his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks and, finally, his lips. He'd never kissed him before. It was lovely. A slow exploration of tongues, licking and curling. A few gentle nips. Erik drew Charles' tongue into his mouth and sucked it tenderly.

"Please don't hurt me," whispered Charles.

Erik felt like his heart might break.

"I won't," he promised, "I won't."

He undressed Charles, kissing each patch of skin as it was revealed. He stood up to take off his own clothes.

"Lovely," said Charles, "All long, lean muscle. Lovely."

Erik lay down on top of him. He kissed down his neck, wriggling his tongue in the hollow of his throat. He kissed his freckled shoulders. He kissed his dark nipples and licked and sucked till they peaked and hardened. He licked down the trail of hair that led to Charles' cock. He was half hard. Erik licked up the underside of Charles' cock. He swirled his tongue around the head, flicking it over Charles' foreskin. He took the head into his mouth and sucked. He took him a little deeper, curling his tongue, then flattening it. He put his hand on the base of Charles' cock and started bobbing his head.

"Oh, yes, Erik, just like that, perfect."

Erik took him as deep as he could, hollowing his cheeks and pumping him with his hand. He gagged a bit as he couldn't deep throat, but kept moving his mouth and hand on Charles' cock. Charles twisted his fingers into Erik's hair.

"Lovely, lovely, lovely, oh, I'm so close, so close."

Erik bobbed faster. Charles made a choking noise, his hips jerked up, shoving his cock deep into Erik's throat and making him gag, and he came in his mouth. Erik spluttered and spat, come dribbling down his chin. Charles' eyelids fluttered shut and he breathed deeply. Erik looked down on him, so perfectly beautiful. Charles stirred and looked up at him.

"You've never looked lovelier, darling," he said with a grin.

Erik grinned back and wiped his chin.

"I'd like you to fuck me now."

Erik frowned. "Are you sure?"

"More than sure."

Erik leapt to the desk and grabbed the lube. Charles laughed at his haste. Erik leapt back to the sofa, knelt between Charles' powerful thighs, lifted his legs and put his calves on his shoulders. He pushed a cushion under Charles' hips, getting him into position. He lubed up a finger and circled Charles' hole.

"Come on!"

"Patience."

Erik slid his finger in very gently. He moved it in and out slowly. Charles pushed back on him. Erik put another finger in and tapped Charles' prostate in a tender rhythm. He added a third finger and lovingly massaged his prostate. Charles sobbed and mumbled. Erik withdrew his fingers and positioned his lubed cock. He pushed in an inch at a time, letting Charles get used to being stretched. He paused, then started fucking him with aching tenderness, taking his time, changing the angle until Charles trembled and moaned and he knew he'd hit his prostate. He kept on nudging it with his prick until Charles was fully hard again.

"Oh, Erik, oh, my darling, my love."

My darling. My love. Erik felt lightheaded. He wrapped his fingers round Charles' red, leaking prick and stroked it in the same slow rhythm as he was fucking him. He spilt over Erik's fingers with a breathy moan. Erik thrust harder and faster, drew out at the last moment and shot his load over Charles' belly. He lowered himself onto Charles, who wrapped his arms round him. They lay there, sweaty and sticky with come. Erik kissed Charles' hair.

"We really should move."

"No," said Erik, "let's just stay here all day."

Charles laughed, kissed Erik's nose and pushed him off. They cleaned up as best they could and kissed soft and slow.

"If you want to talk about, about anything, I'm here."

"Thank you, darling."

One more kiss and he was gone.

Erik remembered about asking Charles out as soon as he'd left. No, his mother had just died, this was definitely not the right time. Next week. Give him the weekend. Erik hadn't felt this hopeful since Magda.


	7. Conflict resolution (not)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sex is consensual, but there is a nasty edge to it.
> 
> Also, comment me babies!
> 
> Also, I'm going on my hols, hoorah, so no more updates for a fortnight (fourteen days in American).

He didn't see Charles on Friday. They were both very busy with half yearly analyses and projections. It was probably a good idea to give him some space. Erik spent the weekend zealously cleaning his apartment even though it was clean already. He often cleaned when he was anxious. He practiced different ways of asking Charles out.

"Hey, Charles, want to grab a coffee?"

Good god no, way too casual, plus it made him sound like a character in "Friends".

"Charles, I'd be honoured if you'd accompany me to a coffee shop."

No, no, absurdly formal.

"Coffee is hot and so are you. Like to come get one with me?"

Argh, terrible.

"Charles, I thought it might be nice to go get a coffee together. We could talk. It would be nice."

OK, too many "nices", but not bad.

On Monday Erik was jittery as hell. He had staff appraisals all morning. After lunch he had a sit down with Emma, who seemed amused by his obvious nervousness, but stuck to business. He had a meeting after that and then needed to work on the XMA figures. It was getting late. What if Charles had gone home? He picked up the phone. The door opened. Charles walked in. Erik put the phone down. He needed several attempts to get the handset on the cradle. He'd prepared a whole list of reasons why Charles should go out with him and a whole list of counter arguments should Charles come up with reasons why he shouldn't.

Charles walked slowly towards Erik's desk. Erik got up and came round to meet him. He braced himself to speak.

"Charles," he began.

"I can't do this any more," said Charles, looking very serious.

And just like that, all Erik's stupid, pathetic dreams of togetherness and domesticity crashed in ruins. Pain welled up, closely followed by anger. As far as Erik was concerned, attack was not the just the best form of defence, it was the only form of defence.

"Fine, you were starting to bore me anyway."

Charles looked shocked for a split second then he smiled, that haughty, "I'm better than you and I know it", smile that Erik really hated.

"Yes, you're right, it was getting dull."

They stood there, staring at each other, both smiling, Charles' fake and dazzling, Erik's cold and feral.

"So."

"So."

Charles turned to go. Erik couldn't bear it.

"One last time, Xavier?"

He stopped. Erik couldn't see his face. He turned. He looked wrecked.

"One last time."

Erik grabbed him and shoved him towards the desk. He swept papers and pens onto the floor. He bent him over it and tugged down his pants and briefs. This was the last time, the last time. He rubbed his hands tenderly over Xavier's lovely buttocks. No, why should he be tender when Xavier had stabbed him in the heart. He slapped his ass half a dozen times, so hard it made his hand hurt. The pale flesh jiggled and pinked under his palm. He reached round and shoved two fingers in Xavier's mouth. Xavier sucked and bit them. Erik tore them out with a curse. He parted Xavier's cheeks and shoved both fingers in.

"Ah, ah, aah," panted Xavier.

Erik jabbed his fingers in and out, careless and furious. Xavier had barely begun to open up when he pulled them out, spat on his hand, moistened his cock and pressed the head into Xavier's hole. Xavier yelped. Erik tried to push in. Xavier was nowhere near stretched or lubed enough. Xavier bore down and Erik was able to get half his prick inside. He paused. Xavier shifted and moaned, not in pleasure, but in pain. Erik pushed the rest of the way in and drew out immediately, only to start thrusting in a punishing, merciless rhythm. Xavier kicked him in the shins. Erik bounced his forehead off the desk. Xavier jabbed his elbows into Erik's ribs. Erik fucked him even harder. Xavier's hips were smacking against the desk. Erik's hips were punching into Xavier. He was close, he was so close. He pulled out, spun Xavier round, shoved him to his knees and came all over his face; his too big nose, his cherry lips, his pink cheeks and the strands of dark hair that had fallen into his face.

"You're disgusting, you disgust me," he spat out.

He fell to his knees beside Xavier. Once he'd got his breath back he reached for Xavier's cock. He was soft. Erik scooped his come off Xavier's face and used it as lube to work his cock. Xavier stared off into the distance as though Erik didn't even exist. It took ages, but Erik grimly kept jerking him, tighter and faster, until he stiffened and finally, finally came.

They slumped on the floor. Eventually, Xavier stood up. His hair was wild, his cheeks were red, his face was streaked with the remnants of Erik's come, his soft cock dripped come on the carpet and his pants were tangled round his ankles. Yet he had a strange kind of dignity about him.

He pulled his clothes up.

"Thank you for that. Goodbye, Erik."

He walked to the door, opened it and closed it behind him. Erik looked after him, then looked at his hands, milky with Xavier's come. He knelt on the floor for quite some time.

That Sunday he'd barely walked through the door when his mother said:

"Boychick, what's wrong?"

"I didn't even get to ask him out, mama. He told me he didn't want anything more to do with me before I'd even opened my mouth."

"Oh, Erik, my boy."

She hugged him tightly and despite the fact that he was about a foot taller than her, he felt very small.

"He's a fool if he can't see what he's giving up. You're good and smart and handsome. Plenty more fish in the sea."

She sat him down and gave him coffee and rugelach and sat beside him and petted his hair.

"I . . . I was horrible to him afterwards, hateful."

"Hmm, horrible enough that you should apologise?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my dear, you can't make someone like you. If they don't, they don't, and you shouldn't be mean to them for that."

"I know, but I thought he did like me. The way he'd look sometimes, the way he'd smile, just little things he said."

"You must have misread him."

"Yes, yes, I know that now. Oh, mama, I was vile to him."

She frowned. "Then you must apologise."

"I will, but what if he won't accept it?"

"That's his right."

"I'm ashamed of myself, mama."

She sighed. "That bad?"

"Worse."

She shook her head, kissed him and fetched more rugelach. He did some odd jobs about the house and garden, which made him feel a little better. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done to Xavier, to Charles. He'd been brutal. Charles hadn't said no, in fact he'd agreed to "one last time", he hadn't fought even half as hard as on previous occasions and he'd even thanked him. Still, Erik was overcome by guilt and shame. He'd called Charles disgusting, but he was the disgusting one.

Come Monday he was on tenterhooks about apologising to Charles. He decided to get it out of the way as soon as possible. He checked with Kitty, Charles' PA, that he was free and walked into his office. Charles looked up. His lips curved in a fleeting smile, then his face went quite blank.

"Hello, Erik. What can I do for you?"

"I want to apologise."

"There's nothing to apologise for."

"Yes there is. I took things too far. I was too rough. I'm sorry."

Charles sighed. "I consented. It was consensual. As I said, there's nothing to apologise for."

"But so soon after your mother passed, to treat you that way - "

Charles' bland facade cracked. "Stop, Erik, just stop. How can you be . . . you were so gentle . . . I thought . . . and then you fucked me like . . . and you said - "

He pulled himself together.

"It's over, Erik, it's done. Neither of us has anything to apologise for. I hope it won't damage our working relationship?"

"No," said Erik, through a too tight throat.

"I'm very busy, so if you don't mind . . . ?"

Erik walked blindly from Charles' office. He detoured into the closest restroom and splashed cold water in his face.

He looked in the mirror.

"You fucked up, you fucked it all up, you stupid fucker."

He punched the face of the moron in the mirror. The glass didn't break, but his knuckles hurt like fuck. Good, he deserved it.

A couple of weeks later he overheard Angel and Janos in the break room.

"God, he's been hell on wheels these last two weeks. He'd been so nice lately, like he was finally mellowing, then this. No one can do anything right. Nothing's good enough, everything's wrong. He made Lucy cry the other day and Zane said he's thinking of asking for a transfer. It's almost as bad as when his mom was ill."

Janos made an interrogative noise.

"No, she's fine, he was talking about her just recently. I'd think it was his love life, but he's too much of a robot to have one."

Janos made a sound of agreement.

"It's not fair. I mean I'm sorry for whatever he's going through, but it's not right to take it out on us."

At the next staff meeting, Erik opened by saying:

"I've been an asshole recently. I don't know how you've put up with me. It's going to stop as of now. You're a good team and I've no right to treat you that way. My apologies."

After the meeting Angel came up to him.

"You know, boss, if you ever need a friendly ear, I'm very discreet."

Erik smiled. "Thanks, but that wouldn't be appropriate."

Angel sighed. "I guess not. I hope you've got someone to talk to?"

"There's always my mama."

Erik did talk to his mother, no specifics, just in general terms, about what had happened with Charles. It helped a little.

He saw Charles all the time of course. He was immaculately polite to Erik and smiling and friendly to everyone else. There was something missing though. Emma noticed it too.

"It's like he was a bright light and someone's turned down the dimmer switch. Don't suppose you'd know who that someone was?"

"I'm not going to talk about it, Frost."

"Hmm, your funeral. I give good advice."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

Erik decided he needed to go out and get laid. He dug out his black leather pants from the bottom of the wardrobe, slipped into his black mesh shirt, slung a heavy stainless steel chain round his neck and tugged on his biker boots. He headed out to a club he hadn't been to in years. It was heaving, the music was pounding and he'd barely walked in the door when he started attracting a lot of attention. He went up to the bar, ordered a German beer and turned round to watch the dancefloor.

There, in the middle of the floor, arms above his head, sandwiched between two big guys, grinding his hips like a porn star, was a short, pale skinned, dark haired guy. He was wearing a white, cut-off tee, tiny gold shorts, knee-high, lacy, white socks and pristine sneakers. His eyes were outlined in black and his lips were slicked with gloss. He looked obscene and perfect.

Charles.


	8. Conference call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back from my hols. I had a great time. Here's loads of filth and a bit of fluff. Let me know what you think :)

Erik gaped at the three men on the dance-floor.

Charles ground his ass into the crotch of the guy behind him and his hips against the guy facing him. The man at his rear looked like some kind of giant Viking, all tanned skin and long blonde hair and a short beard. The man in front was almost as tall, but as pale as Charles, with flicked back black hair, like a goth eighties throw-back. The three of them moved as one with the deafening beat. The Viking ran one hand down Charles' chest, teasing a nipple, and clutched his hip with the other. The goth had both hands clamped on Charles' ass. Charles reached back to fondle the Viking's ass and up to caress the back of the goth's neck. Tall and pale leaned down to shout in Charles' ear, the only way to be heard above the music, then straightened up and nodded at tall and tanned.

The three of them headed off the dance-floor towards the back rooms. Erik knew exactly what happened there and shoved his way through the dancers to follow. The back rooms were even darker than the rest of the club, with doorways, but no doors. Charles and the two men disappeared into one of them. Erik pushed his way to the doorway and stood just outside, looking in. About half a dozen men leant against the walls, watching the three men in the middle.

The blonde was kissing Charles while the pale guy was stripping him. Off came his sneakers and white socks. Off came the cut-off tee. Off came the tiny gold shorts. Charles was stark naked between the two bigger men. Blondie kept kissing him, one big hand holding his head, the other resting in the small of his back. The black haired guy knelt and licked and kissed and gnawed Charles' plush ass.

Erik was filled with rage and jealously and desire. The other guys in the room were touching themselves. Erik was unbearably angry and unbearably turned on. He cupped his half hard cock through the leather of his trousers.

The blonde man knelt and started mouthing at Charles' bright red, fully erect cock. The dark haired one parted Charles' buttocks and shoved his face between the firm, round cheeks. Charles twisted his fingers into fair and dark hair and threw his head back in ecstasy, moaning and whimpering. The Viking took Charles in his mouth and started sucking. The goth pulled back and began slapping Charles' ass, driving his cock into the other guy's mouth. Charles shuddered and gasped. The pale guy grabbed some lube off a shelf - the back rooms were well supplied - and lubed up a couple of fingers. He slid them between Charles' ass cheeks and into his hole.

Charles' mouth opened in a shout that was barely audible above the music. The dark haired one worked his fingers in and out of Charles' ass in a brisk, efficient rhythm, while the blonde one sucked dick. Charles put his hands on their shoulders to steady himself. He was flushed scarlet from his face to his belly. Sweat beaded his rosy skin and darkened his hair. The two men upped the pace, blondie bobbing his head furiously and the dark haired guy stabbing his fingers into Charles with vicious intensity. Charles' whole body spasmed and he came in the Viking's mouth, come overflowing into his beard, while the pale man finger fucked him through his climax.

Charles collapsed on the floor. The two men petted and stroked him. Erik was fully hard now. Some of the other guys had already jerked themselves off. The Viking rolled Charles onto his belly and pulled him up so he was on his hands and knees. He knelt behind him, unzipped, popped out his fat prick and rubbed it on Charles' ass. Dark haired guy knelt at Charles' head. He pulled out his long, lean cock and slapped Charles' face with it.

The two men exchanged glances, then, as one, the blonde guy pushed his cock into Charles' ass and the pale guy shoved his prick into Charles' mouth. Erik wanted to kill them both. He wanted to push into Charles' hole beside the Viking and slide into his mouth with the goth. He started pumping himself in time to their thrusts. The Viking pushed Charles forwards, forcing the other guy's cock deeper into his throat. The goth pushed Charles backwards, burying blondie's prick in him up to the hilt.

Erik stroked himself faster, watching Charles' buttock muscles clench and release, seeing the tears stream down his face, hearing him gag and choke. The two men changed their rhythm, so they both withdrew at once and both shoved in at the same time. Charles was struggling to hold himself up under the twin assault. The Viking's massive hands steadied him. The goth's long fingers tugged at his hair, keeping his head up. The dark haired man groaned, pulled out and pulsed come all over Charles' red, sweating face. The blonde withdrew, smacked Charles' ass and spurted pale lines across the roseate skin. Erik grunted and came in his hand.

The three in the middle of the room fell into a tangled heap. The watchers gradually drifted away. Erik lurked outside the door. The pale man grabbed some wipes and cleaned himself off. The tanned giant cleaned Charles up, handed him his clothes and then cleaned himself off. Charles got dressed, if you could call that tiny amount of clothing "dressed". Blondie kissed him and gave him an affectionate hug. Charles kissed and hugged him back. Blondie said something to dark haired guy, who made a kind of "I'll be along in a minute gesture".

Charles tied his sneakers and made to go. The other man grabbed his arm and said something. Charles smiled, shook his head and tried to pull away. The other didn't let go. He pushed Charles up against the bench at the back of the room. Charles frowned and tried to pull away again. The other guy flipped him around, bent him over the bench, pinned him with his body and tore his shorts down. Charles fought frantically, but the dark haired man cracked his forehead against the wall and, while he was dazed, fastened his wrists into the manacles that dangled from the wall.

Erik, who had watched all this uncertain if Charles was consenting and this was just role play, caught a glimpse of Charles' face. He most definitely did not want this. Erik leapt forward. Dark haired guy was just pressing a massive dildo against Charles' hole when Erik grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around and punched him in the face. It hurt Erik's hand like fuck, but, God, it was good to see the tall shit go down like a ton of bricks.

Tall guy scrambled to his feet so Erik knocked him down again. He was just getting up a third time and Erik was preparing to knock him down again, when the Viking appeared in the doorway. Oh fuck. He looked from the man on the ground to Erik, then Charles, who was yelling something, then back to the man on the floor. He hauled him up and shook him vigorously by the shoulders, shouting in his face. The dark haired man looked shamefaced. Blondie turned to Erik and Charles and bellowed:

"I . . . for my brother . . . sorry . . . he . . . ashamed . . . never happened . . . you would be . . . your . . . to report him, but . . . I ask . . . promise I will punish . . . my thanks . . . "

He shook the other man like a big dog shaking a cat. The other kept his head down.

"Just get him out of here," yelled Erik.

Blondie dragged him out. Erik unfastened Charles' wrists from the manacles. They stood staring at each other, Charles rubbing absently at a bruise on his forehead.

" . . . stalking . . . "

"I can't hear you," shouted Erik over the pounding music.

"First . . . you act . . . asshole . . . then rush . . . rescue . . . Prince fucking Charming! What's wrong with . . . I just don't . . . doesn't . . . sense . . . understand you."

"It's no good. Let's get out of here," Erik bawled, gesturing at the exit.

Charles sighed and shrugged and nodded. They forced their way out of the club and stood outside the entrance. It was dark and slightly chilly and, despite the revellers, seemed startlingly quiet.

"What do you want, Erik?" Charles looked very tired.

What did he want?

"Can we, can we just go somewhere and talk? There's an all-nite diner down the block."

Charles looked like he was going to say no, then he muttered "OK".

They walked in silence. The diner was brightly lit, blindingly so, and populated by a handful of partygoers and a gaggle of rent-boys. Erik and Charles fitted right in. They sat. A bored waitress wondered over. Erik asked for a coffee, Charles for a tea. He had a bit of a struggle getting her to understand he didn't want iced tea, but hot, black tea with milk.

"I'm sorry," said Erik.

"For what?"

"For how I was last time we had sex."

"You've already apologised and I told you it was unnecessary. Anyway, you've more than made up for it with your daring rescue tonight."

He smiled, a small, tight thing, but a smile nonetheless.

"I'm an asshole," said Erik.

The smile widened. "Well, I'm not going to argue about that."

Erik smiled back. God, he'd missed Charles. Not only fucking him, but the odd little bits of conversation and just being with him. He hated their polite, formal working relationship with a passion.

"Is it too late for us?"

Charles' smile disappeared.

"You said you were getting bored with me."

"I lied."

"Why?"

"Because you said you couldn't do it anymore."

Charles sighed. "That hasn't changed."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. One part of him wanted to just give up and get up and walk out. Another part of him was screaming "Use your words, Erik!"

"What . . . what made you want to stop?"

Charles was silent for a long time.

"I suppose I started to realise that underneath all the anger and cynicism you were, are quite a decent person."

Erik was puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?"

Charles laughed. Damn, he looked lovely when he laughed, cheeks pink, blue eyes sparkling and red lips curving.

"No, you idiot, that's a good thing."

"Then . . . then why did you break it off?"

"Because it hurt having just your bad side when I wanted your good side too."

"I . . . what?"

Charles' smile was self-depreciating.

"No doubt you'll think me some kind of romantic idiot, but I wanted more than just fucking, though the fucking was top notch, I wanted to try for a relationship. I'm sure we would have crashed and burned, but I wanted to try."

Two thoughts burned through Erik's head. First, Charles had combined the phrase "top notch" with the word "fucking". Second, had Charles just said he wanted a relationship?

"Did you just say you wanted a relationship?"

"Yes."

Erik started laughing. He snorted and snuffled and snot dripped out of his nose and tears came to his eyes.

Charles flushed bright red and stood up.

"And that's why I knew it was a bad idea."

He turned to go. Erik grabbed his wrist. Charles gave him a very fierce look and Erik immediately let go.

"I'm sorry, please sit down, let me explain."

He gazed at Charles beseechingly, well, as beseechingly as his naturally haughty face would let him. Charles sat down.

"I was going to ask you out."

Charles looked poleaxed.

"I'd been psyching myself up all weekend. I'd practiced what I'd say. I'd thought of all sorts of reasons why you should say yes. That's why I was such an asshole when you said you wanted to stop. I was heartbroken and the way I show sorrow is through anger."

Charles opened his mouth. He closed his mouth. He opened it again.

"Oh my god! We are complete idiots."

"Yes, yes we are."

"So I was going to ask if you wanted a relationship and you were going to ask me out and neither of us said what we wanted to say, we just ended up having hate sex."

"Yep."

"How could we be so stupid?"

"It's a gift," said Erik.

"Wow, we're both really gifted. Where were you planning on taking me for our date?"

"Coffee shop."

Three heads popped up from behind the back of the neighbouring seat.

"Oh no, baby. Coffee shop! Boresville USA, sweetie. The zoo is so sweet for a first date. There are so many cuddly, adorable baby animals, plus the petting zoo. Ooo, too sweet," said a blonde boy dressed in a sexy maid outfit.

"No, the planetarium. It's dark and you can cuddle up and the stars are so romantic and you learn something too," said a slim, young man of colour, wearing not much more than a thong.

"A picnic in the park would be way better. Delicious food, lovely wine, people-watching. You can throw a ball around and tackle each other and roll in the grass and get all hot and sweaty and when it gets cold you can snuggle up in a blanket," said a muscular, Chinese-American boy.

Erik and Charles stared at their audience, who looked like a sort of perverse diversity campaign, then at each other.

"Charles Xavier, would you go out on a date with me to any of the aforementioned places or other venue of your choice?"

He took hold of Charles' hands. Charles squeezed his fingers.

"Erik Lehnsherr, I will go on a date with you and I don't care where we go because I'll be with you."

The three boys awww'd. Charles leant forward and kissed Erik very sweetly on the lips. Erik kissed him back, the cheers of their audience ringing in his ears.


	9. Health and Safety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a very quick chapter - Erik and Charles are actually sensible for a change.

In the end they went to a coffee shop after all. They didn't see each other all weekend. Erik wanted to, but Charles felt he had a bit of thinking to do after the events of Friday night, so they met up on Monday after work. Erik had chosen a really nice place, close enough to be convenient, but not so close they were likely to see anyone from work. They were a bit shy with each other at first, which was weird considering what they'd been doing in the office over the last few months. Erik started taking about his mother, his go to subject when he was nervous. Charles listened and laughed at the funny bits and looked concerned at the cancer bits. He responded by telling Erik all about his sister, who sounded like a riot. They were getting on like a house on fire, but there was one subject Erik felt he needed to raise. He took a deep breath.

"Charles, I think we need to talk about risky sexual behaviour."

Charles blushed.

"They didn't come in me."

"No, but they came on you and that's still a risk, plus you came in blondie's mouth. Do you, do you often do that kind of thing?"

He shook his head vigorously.

"God, no, I haven't done anything like that in years, literally. I think . . . my mother's death, it took me back to a bad place, when I'd first come out to her as bi and she was so dismissive. I was pretty self destructive then and her death triggered the same stupid, reckless behaviour. I promise I won't do anything like that ever again while I'm with you."

"Thank you. I think we should both get checked out and practice safe sex until our results are in."

"Yes, Erik," said Charles very meekly.

Erik grinned. "Is this what you're going to be like now we're dating?"

Charles put on a "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" expression.

"Yes, Erik."

"Then I suggest we go back to my place and practice some of that safe sex."

"Yes, Erik," said Charles, fluttering his eyelashes.

When they got to Erik's apartment he was suddenly reminded of all his fantasies of Charles being in his place. He picked Charles up bodily - he was surprisingly heavy - and carried him to the bedroom. He deposited him on the magenta sheets.

"Hmmm, snazzy colour."

Erik draped himself over Charles, pinning him down.

"First off, who the hell says "snazzy"? We're no longer in the jazz age. Second, are you criticising my taste in home decor?"

Charles smiled. "Your colour choice in bed linen is somewhat jejune."

Erik smiled back, all teeth. "Take that back."

Charles put on the infuriatingly superior voice that drove Erik to distraction.

"Oh, I don't think I will."

"Take that back," hissed Erik, pulling Charles hair.

Charles laughed in his face. Erik sat up on the edge of the bed, hauled Charles over his lap and pulled down his pants and briefs.

"I'm going to spank you and you're going to thank me for every blow."

He rubbed his fingers over Charles' lovely buttocks, then brought the flat of his hand down with a crack.

"Thank you," quavered Charles.

Erik smacked his perfect ass six times, getting a thank you for every strike, then gave him an extra hard one for luck, which elicited a little shriek.

"Strip," said Erik.

Charles stood on the bed and gave him a show. He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving his tie on, and flashed Erik his right nipple, then his left, then both. He wriggled out of his pants, briefs and socks, giving Erik a lovely view of his burning red ass. Erik grabbed the tie and dragged him down for a kiss.

"Hands and knees."

Charles did as he was told. Erik got lube and a condom from the bedside cabinet. He slicked two fingers and rubbed them all round Charles' hole. Charles pushed back, trying to get them into his ass.

"Naughty," said Erik. "Don't be impatient or you won't get anything at all."

"Sorry, sir," gasped Charles.

Erik put his fingers on Charles' sweet pucker. He stayed obediently still. Erik pushed them in. He moaned. Erik stilled. He could tell Charles was itching to move from the little noises he was making, but he didn't.

"Good boy. Just for that I'm going to give your prostate some attention."

He massaged Charles' prostate until he was damn near crying.

"Thank you, sir, oh, thank you."

"Such a good, polite boy. Ask nicely for another finger."

"Please may I have another finger, sir?"

"Yes, and because you've been so good, you can have two."

He eased two more fingers into Charles. God, he felt good, warm and velvety, pulsing round Erik's four fingers. He twisted and scissored and stretched. Charles wriggled and muttered "sir, yes, sir".

"Very military, Charles. Are you my brave, little soldier?"

"Yes, sir."

Erik withdrew his fingers. Charles keened.

"Turn around."

He shuffled around. Erik held out the condom. Charles took it.

"Put it on me."

Charles unwrapped it and slipped it into his mouth, then slid it onto Erik's prick by deep throating him in one, long, easy glide. Erik jerked his hips involuntarily, making Charles choke and his eyes water. He put his fingers against Charles' cheek and thrust gently, loving the feel of his prick moving in Charles' mouth. He pulled out. Charles looked disappointed.

"Don't you want my cock up your ass?"

Charles perked up and scrambled round so his ass was brushing against Erik's cock. Erik grabbed the tie and wound it round his fingers, drawing it tight around Charles' neck. With his other hand he positioned his cock. He pushed in, pulling on the tie. Charles choked and wiggled. Erik hadn't lubed his cock so, despite all the fingering, he still felt wonderfully tight. Erik started thrusting, tugging on the tie with every thrust. Charles' breathing was loud and raspy.

"Clench for me, baby."

Charles clenched tight on every thrust. Erik dug the fingers of one hand into the flesh of Charles' hip. That was going to bruise. With the other hand he kept on pulling at the tie. Charles' breathing was increasingly laboured. Erik took his hand off Charles' hip and jammed a finger in alongside his cock. Charles gave a choked yell and his rectal muscles spasmed around Erik, pulling them both over the edge.

When Erik came to his senses he loosened the tie from around Charles' throat, then carefully pulled out and disposed of the condom. He got a wash cloth and cleaned up a semi-conscious Charles. He snuggled up to him and curled round as the big spoon. He must have dropped off because when he opened his eyes there was an empty, warm patch next to him. For a horrible moment he thought Charles had done a runner, then he heard noises from the kitchen. He dragged on his boxers.

Charles was rootling around in a cupboard wearing nothing but Erik's shirt.

"Do you have any tea?"

Erik couldn't answer. This was so like his fantasy he felt lightheaded and a tiny bit tearful.

"Erik, sweetheart, are you OK?"

Sweetheart. Erik nodded.

"I'm a lot better than OK."

Charles went up on tiptoe to kiss him. Erik took the opportunity to grope his ass.

"Oi, none of that till I've had some tea."

"We may have to embrace celibacy as I don't think I have any."

Charles looked outraged.

"I do have some excellent coffee beans and a top of the range coffee machine?"

"I suppose it will have to do," grumbled Charles.

Erik made him a superb coffee. Charles sniffed and said it was "tolerable". Since he was sitting on Erik's lap at the time he wasn't too bothered.

On Tuesday Erik asked for a five minute meeting with Emma.

"You look a lot more cheerful than you have lately."

Damn that woman was perceptive.

"I have to inform you that Charles Xavier and I are a couple. It shouldn't be a problem given we are the same grade and in different departments."

Emma actually clapped her hands. He'd never seen her so animated before.

"Finally. Took you long enough to get your head out of your ass or do I mean into his ass? Anyway, congrats. Any chance of a replay of the office chair action?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," said Erik, getting up to go.

"Let me know if you change your mind," she called after him.

When he told Charles he said he wouldn't be averse to giving Emma another show, which earned him a condom clad cock down his throat in the men's washroom.


	10. I didn't promise you a rose garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been away from this for ages so please comment :) Oh, warning for watersports, stop reading after they leave Edie's house to skip it.
> 
> Also, please vote for next sexy times. Your options are as follows:
> 
> 1\. Boardroom Bondage.
> 
> 2\. Stationery Cupboard Shenanigans.
> 
> 3\. Mailroom Madness.

Erik met Raven when she paid a flying visit to New York. He and Charles had been a thing for two months. Charles spent time in his apartment. Erik came over to Charles' much bigger, much nicer, much messier apartment. God, the little bastard was untidy. Thank heavens he had a cleaner. Erik did all his own cleaning. He'd tried a cleaner, but she didn't do it to his satisfaction. He wanted Charles to meet his mama, but Charles had been a bit evasive, so when he'd offered a meet up with his sister, Erik had jumped at the chance. Meeting the relatives made it all seem so official.

Raven was as lively and wild as Charles had described her. She hugged Charles so tightly he squeaked. She gave Erik a sort of shoulder punch thing that hurt quite a lot. She regaled them with tales of LA. She had all kinds of anecdotes, both sweet and scandalous, about the glitterati of Hollywood.

"The two male leads in my movie both have reputations as real ladies men. And, fuck, they can flirt. The tall, Irish guy is the most obvious about it. Such a charmer. But the short, Scottish guy is quite the Romeo too. He's got this sweet, boyish thing going on, but underneath he's a little devil. Anyway, they have this massive bromance going on, and maybe a bit more than a bromance if you know what I mean. Sometimes the way they look at each other is just so intense."

She paused.

"Go on, go on," said Charles.

"I don't know if I should tell you this. You've got to swear you won't tell anyone."

They both nodded. Erik didn't actually know who the two actors were. He tended to stick to documentaries and current affairs programmes.

"I was on set and they weren't. I'd forgotten a prop so I sprinted back to my trailer. Sooo, I grabbed it and was just about to run back when I heard voices. We're always playing tricks on each other so I thought it would be funny to creep up on them and jump out. So I sneaked round the side of the trailer and peeked round the corner and damn! Scottish shortbread has got his back up against the trailer. Irish coffee is draped all over him. Their shirts are unbuttoned. Scotch boy is running his hands all over tall guy's chest. Irishman has got his hands clamped on shorty's butt. Their lips are about a millimetre from touching. I must have gasped or something coz they both looked over and leapt apart. Tried to tell me they were rehearsing a scene."

Charles did his wide eyed, open mouthed, shocked face.

"Maybe they were rehearsing a scene," said Erik.

Raven grinned.

"Except there isn't any scene like that."

"I've always thought they had bucket loads of chemistry," said Charles, "You know, in interviews and at premieres and promotional bashes. I wouldn't be a bit surprised to find out they're mainly het, but gay for each other. Oh, have we eaten all the snacky things? I'll go get some more olives and cheese and prosciutto."

As soon as he left the room, Raven got up in Erik's face.

"Charles always falls for assholes. You're obviously an asshole, but you might just be the right kind of asshole. Don't prove me wrong, you'll regret it," she hissed.

Charles came back in and she carried on chatting as though nothing had happened. Erik didn't blame her for being protective of Charles and when she was leaving took the opportunity to whisper, "I won't prove you wrong". She flashed him a feral grin.

It took another month for Erik to persuade Charles to visit Edie. He understood why he was reluctant, given his issues with Sharon, but it was still frustrating,

"What if she doesn't like me?"

"How could she not like you, you're adorable."

He did look adorable too, sprawled on Erik's magenta sheets wearing nothing but an overlarge sweater (Erik's) with come trickling down one thigh (also Erik's). Their results had come back clean as a whistle some time ago.

"You hated me when you first met me."

"That's because I'm a horrible person. My mother is lovely."

Charles bit his lip.

"It's just I know how important she is to you and I don't want to be a disappointment."

"You couldn't be a disappointment. You're smart, handsome and kind, when you're not being a complete pain in the ass."

"Oi! Cheeky bugger. Oh, all right then, I'll go."

He sighed like he was going to a funeral.

He was jittery for days before the visit. Erik did his best to reassure him. The day dawned. Charles changed his shirt half a dozen times and ended up in the cornflower blue one he'd first put on. They parked outside Edie's little house. Erik looked at Charles. He was trembling slightly. Erik leaned over and took him in his arms.

"It'll be alright I swear, and even if she doesn't like you I won't break up with you, the sex is too good."

Charles snorted, but looked a bit more cheerful.

They walked up the path, flowers and chocolates at the ready. Erik knocked and opened the door. His mother never locked it despite all his warnings. Edie came barrelling down the corridor.

"Erik, my boy, you look so happy."

She hugged him and he hugged her back and lifted her off the ground.

"Put me down you hooligan. Where's the young man who's put that smile on your face?"

Charles peeked round Erik. Edie pounced on him and hugged him ruthlessly. Charles looked more than a little overwhelmed.

"So good to meet you, Charles. Erik has told me so much about you and all good, which is unusual for him, he has quite the spiteful tongue."

Charles was startled into a laugh. Erik protested. Edie ushered them into the house. She exclaimed over the flowers and put them in a vase. She said she'd save the chocolates for after lunch.

"The weather is so nice - the end of autumn, but you'd think it was the start of summer - I thought we'd sit outside."

She led them into the garden.

"Oh, Mrs Lehnsherr, this is beautiful," said Charles.

"Thank you my dear, and it's "Edie", please."

"I love the way you've combined the grasses with the Michaelmas daisies and the dahlias, Mrs, I mean, Edie."

"Ah, I got the idea from the High Line Park."

"That's someplace I've always wanted to visit, but never have."

Edie turned to Erik.

"Erik, take your boyfriend to the High Line Park," she said sternly.

"Yes, mama," replied Erik meekly.

Charles giggled. Edie led them round the garden. She pointed out plants she'd raised from seed and from cuttings. Charles knew all the Latin names.

"And this Japanese maple, such a lovely autumn colour, my Erik bought me."

They both looked fondly at Erik, who blushed as red as the maple.

"This was a gift from Mrs Molina next door," said Edie, gesturing at a plant which looked vaguely like a holly bush to Erik.

"I keep trying to kill it because I don't like mahonia, but it's very tough."

"What a coincidence, I don't like mahonia either. The flowers just don't look right with the leaves."

"They don't, do they?"

They carried on dissing the unfortunate mahonia. Erik grinned to think of his boyfriend and his mother bonding over plant hate. They stepped into the rose arbour where Edie had laid out the table. Most of the flowers were over except for one yellow rose which was still flowering beautifully.

"If you dead head and mulch and feed, this beauty will flower into December. A good scent too. The variety is "Golden Showers"."

Erik caught Charles' eye. Charles bit his lip, turned bright red and made a sort of strangled sound. Erik struggled not to laugh.

"What is it?" said Edie.

"Nothing, mama, nothing," Erik managed to choke out.

Charles spluttered and coughed.

"Oh, you bad boys! I see what it is, "Golden Showers". You think your mama doesn't know about watersports? I saw a very interesting programme late night on one of those reality channels where these two nice young men - "

"No, mama, no! Please stop, just stop, just no, no, no!" cried Erik in an agony of embarrassment.

"Well, it's important I know about these things. Who knows? You might come to me for advice."

The thought of going to his mother for advice on pissing on his boyfriend was truly horrific. Charles collapsed on a chair and laughed till he wept.

"Oh, boychick, your face!" gasped Edie and joined in.

Horrified as he was, Erik couldn't help seeing the funny side. His laughter was a tiny bit hysterical though.

When they'd all calmed down, Edie went to fetch the food. They offered to help, but she told them to stay put.

"Still worried about meeting my mother?"

Charles shook his head.

"Oh, Erik, she's wonderful. We have to make this relationship work, I couldn't possibly lose your mother."

Edie came back with the food and sent Erik to fetch the coffee. There was tea for Charles, she'd got it in specially when he'd told her Charles wasn't a fan of coffee. Erik was used to his mother's cooking, but Charles was in transports of ecstasy. He made some noises Erik had only ever heard under very different circumstances.

"What did you say these were called, Edie?"

"Latkes, my dear."

"Latkes. I don't know if they're better with the sour cream or the apple sauce. Perhaps I'd better try both at once."

He nearly fainted over her rugelach.

"So how is it you know so much about gardening, Charles?"

"My mother," he paused and swallowed, "My mother had a lovely garden. She didn't do any of the work, the gardener did that, but the overall design was hers. The gardener was a sweet old chap. He put up with me even though I was an irritating child, constantly asking questions, getting in the way, determined to help, though I was more of a hindrance. He let me trail around after him and weed and plant and water. He taught me the latin names of the plants and how to look after them. He was something of a grandfather figure to me."

Erik and Edie gazed at him with matching smiles.

After lunch Edie insisted on getting out the photo album.

"Must you show him the pictures of me naked?"

"You were just a baby, where's the harm? Besides, nothing that he hasn't seen already."

She and Charles giggled. Erik tried to look disapproving and failed.

"You look so like your father, even as a little boy."

Edie smiled reminiscently.

"Yes, so like his papa. Such a good man and Erik is like him in that too."

She leant across and kissed his cheek. Charles kissed his other cheek. Edie turned the pages.

"Erik, why are you scowling in all your teenage photos?" asked Charles.

"I'm not scowling, I'm just serious."

"Oh, could we get him to smile? No, we could not! He was trying to look dangerous and mysterious I think. Like he had terrible secrets. The only terrible secret he had was that magazine with pictures of naked men under his bed."

"Mama!"

"What? It's not like he doesn't know you like boys."

Edie opened the box of chocolates they'd brought her. Even though they were stuffed they managed to force a couple down.

Charles told Edie about his sister. About her painting them both blue so they could play at being "mutants". About playing hide and seek in the huge, echoing house. About her dressing him up in feathers and nothing else for a Pride parade. About her burgeoning career.

"What's this movie called that she's in?"

"X-Force. It's a sci-if film about people with superpowers. Not my sort of thing at all, but I'm sure she'll be good in it and I'll watch it a dozen times just for her."

"You're very proud of her."

He smiled. "I am. She didn't have the easiest start in life. She's not actually my sister. She's a distant relative. Her parents just abandoned her and if my father hadn't adopted her she'd have had to be taken into care."

"Poor thing. She's doing well now though, eh?"

"Very well. Better than her brother. I studied genetics and intended to work in that field, but somehow it never happened."

"Genetics?" said Erik.

"Yes. Not that there's anything wrong with this job, but genetics was my first love."

It was getting on for teatime and getting a little chilly. They carried the dishes and cutlery indoors. Erik lit a fire, while Edie brewed more tea and coffee and Charles laid out clean crockery. Edie produced what she called snacks and Erik called a full meal. Charles tucked in with gusto. Erik talked a bit about work. Edie told them how she'd fleeced the local ladies at poker. Charles said he preferred chess.

"Chess? I love chess! I didn't even know you played," said Erik.

"Why did you think I had a chess set in my apartment?"

"It's a pretty fancy one, I thought it was just an ornament."

"Just an ornament? Just an ornament! Oh, Lenhsherr, we are so on!"

"Xavier, your ass is grass."

Edie laughed. "Calm down boys, calm down."

Going home time seemed to come around all too soon. Charles had to be practically torn from Edie's arms. He turned round in his seat and waved to her until they turned the corner. He was very silent on the drive home and about ten minutes out from Erik's apartment he burst into tears. Erik pulled over and embraced him.

"Charles, baby, what's wrong?"

"She's so lovely, Erik, she's so lovely. If my mother had been half as loving, no, a tenth as loving . . . "

His voice was suspended by weeping. Erik petted him and kissed him and soothed him and promised him a good, hard fucking. That seemed to cheer him up.

Neither of them wanted any dinner. They were way too full of Edie's food. Charles seemed determined that Erik should drink vast quantities of water though.

"It's very important to stay hydrated," said Charles, pressing yet another glass of water into his hand.

"OK," said Erik, obediently drinking it.

They watched a bit of TV. After all that water, Erik was desperate for a pee.

"Where are you going?" asked Charles.

"For a piss."

Charles grinned.

"I've got an idea about that. It has something to do with flowers."

Erik looked at him blankly. Charles smirked like an incubus.

"Roses?"

Realisation dawned. Erik grinned his best sharky grin.

"Golden Showers."

They stripped on the way to the shower, leaving clothing strewn in their path. Erik grabbed Charles and pushed him face first against the cold tile wall. He nipped at the nape of his neck and dragged his nails down his back. Charles whimpered. Erik rubbed his cock between Charles' perfect ass cheeks, but stopped as soon as he felt himself begun to stiffen. He wouldn't be able to pee if he was hard.

"Get in the shower."

Charles lifted his chin up.

"And if I don't?"

Erik felt his arousal build the way it always did when Charles was defiant and fought him and Erik had to overcome him.

He slapped Charles' face. Charles gasped and his cock twitched. Red bloomed in his cheek. He climbed into the shower.

"Turn around."

He didn't move. Erik slapped Charles' half hard cock. He shuddered and his cock stiffened a bit more. Erik slapped it a few more times until Charles was completely erect and moaning.

"Turn around."

Charles turned around. Erik grabbed a towel and whipped his ass to redness. Charles braced himself against the tiles and howled. Erik rubbed his hand over the hot flesh.

"You need something to ease your pain. Shall I give it to you?"

"Yes please, sir."

"What do you want?"

"Your piss, sir."

"Say it again."

"I want you to piss on me, sir."

"I'm not sure you've been good enough to deserve it, but I'm going to give it to you anyway."

Erik started peeing on Charles' buttocks. Charles gasped.

"Warm, so warm."

It was quite hypnotic, watching the pale golden stream trickle down his rosy red cheeks and his ass crack and flow in rivulets down his strong thighs and muscular calves. Charles pulled his cheeks apart so Erik could piss on his pucker. With an effort, Erik stopped himself mid-stream.

"Turn around."

Charles turned around. He looked strung out and painfully hard.

"Kneel down."

He knelt. Erik started peeing again. On his erect cock. On his taut belly. On his dark nipples. Charles opened his mouth in an obvious invitation. Erik directed the stream of piss into his mouth. It bounced off his tongue and splashed on his lips. Golden droplets spattered his pink cheeks. They matched his freckles. An amber bead glistened on his eyelash. A small pool of golden liquid had gathered in his mouth. Charles fixed him with his blue eyes, swallowed and licked his lips. Erik ran out of piss.

"What does it taste like?"

"Salty. A little sour. A bit like when you put your tongue on a battery. Not too bad really. Please can you help me with this?"

He gestured to his rock hard penis.

"Shower yourself off first."

Charles obediently soaped himself clean, giving his dick the occasional stroke, while Erik pumped himself to hardness. He grabbed a tube of lube from the bathroom cabinet. He climbed into the shower with Charles and pressed him face first against the wall. Charles groaned at the pressure on his cock. Erik lubed up a finger and pressed in.

"Oh, yes, more, more."

He slid in a second finger. He nibbled along Charles' shoulders and pinched his buttocks.

"Not enough, it's not enough."

"You have a greedy ass, Charles."

He pushed another finger in and massaged his prostate.

"More, more, please, sir, please."

Erik got a fourth finger in. He curled and scissored his fingers. He reached round with his other hand and dug his nails into his nipples. Charles jolted and yelped. He pulled his nails down Charles' belly and scraped them across the head of his cock. Charles sobbed.

"Cock, need your cock sir, please sir."

Erik withdrew his fingers and pushed his cock in with one smooth motion. He stilled. Charles trembled and shivered and moaned. Erik began to thrust, pushing Charles up on his toes with every movement. He wrapped one arm round his throat and the other round his chest. He pushed Charles down onto his cock as he thrust up.

"Clench for me."

Charles clenched.

"Move your hips."

Charles rotated his hips.

Erik was so close, so close, just a few more strokes. He tightened his forearm on Charles' throat, choking him, and dragged his nails up and down his cock. Charles' scream was trapped in his throat. He spurted come over Erik's fingers. His rectal muscles dragged come from Erik's cock in long pulses. They slid down the tiled wall and ended up tangled together in the bath. They didn't get out until the water ran cold. Erik dried Charles off very carefully with a fluffy towel.

"I'm never going to look at yellow roses in the same way again," said Charles.

"I'm never going to be able to sit in my mama's rose arbour again," said Erik.


	11. Is that package for me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mailroom Madness and Boardroom Bondage tied, so here's MM, BB will follow. I need comments like a plant needs rain . . .

Erik and Charles had been together for four months now. Erik spent more time at Charles' place then he did at his own. They did all the boring domestic stuff that Erik had imagined when he'd fantasised about being Charles' boyfriend. They also had a lot of sex; tender sex, rough sex, quickies and they'd baptised every room in both their apartments. They hadn't had sex in the office for ages though. Erik missed it, but didn't say anything to Charles because it seemed so greedy, to want that on top of everything else he had.

Erik was working late one Thursday. Charles had already gone home. Erik was waiting for a product sample to be delivered. He wanted the team to see the actual product before they did their projections. It was a new and unusual addition to the product line and he felt they really needed to understand it, handle it and use it before they could forecast how it might sell. The last mail drop had been hours ago. Erik wondered if his parcel might have missed the late delivery and be lurking in the mailroom.

He took the lift downstairs. The mailroom was silent and dark. He switched the lights on and looked in the mail slots for his department. Nothing. He had a rootle around the general incoming mail in case it hadn't been sorted yet. Still nothing. He felt a bit irritated. They'd promised he'd get it today.

"Looking for something?"

Erik turned. Charles was leaning on some shelving, jacket draped over one arm, tie loosened and shirt collar unbuttoned. He held a parcel in his hands.

"I thought you'd gone home," said Erik.

"No. Looking for this by any chance?"

He held up the parcel. Erik could see his own name on it. He smiled.

"Yes, yes I am. Thanks for picking it up for me, baby."

Erik had discovered an alarming fondness for pet names.

"I'm not your baby and I'm not your fucking mail boy," snapped Charles and tossed the parcel onto the highest shelf.

Erik gaped. "I . . . what?"

"I'm a head of department. You should treat me with respect, not like I'm some kid off the street."

Erik stared. Charles gave him a meaningful look. Oh. Oh!

"Well, you should try behaving like a head of department instead of a petulant child who needs his ass spanked. As for being a kid off the street, I've always thought you looked like you should be standing on a street corner, selling your ass for ten bucks a pop."

"How dare you," gasped Charles and swung at Erik.

Erik caught his fist and forced him back against the shelving. He pinned both hands above his head and trapped him with his body and legs. Charles felt wonderfully warm and solid and alive, pressed up against him like that.

"Someone needs to teach you a lesson, you spoilt brat. I'm sick and tired of your arrogance and petulance."

Charles sneered. "Oh? And who's going to teach me that lesson? You? I don't think so, you limp-dicked excuse for a man."

Erik tightened his grasp on Charles' wrists and rubbed his cock against his hip.

"Limp-dicked, huh? You won't be calling me limp-dicked when I'm ramming my rock hard cock up your tight ass."

Charles laughed contemptuously.

"Make sure to let me know when you're doing it, I wouldn't want to drop off and miss it."

Erik ground against him. They were both half hard.

"Oh, you won't miss it, you little fucker." He dragged one of Charles' hands down and cupped it to his prick. "Feel that? That's what's going to be reaming your ass till you scream."

Charles' eyes widened in simulated fear. He was an excellent actor.

"Now, let's not be hasty. You apologise for what you said and I'll apologise too. We're both reasonable people. We can part as mutually respectful colleagues."

Erik laughed. "Too late for that, Charlie boy. I've been wanting to do this forever. You can't act the brat and not expect to be punished for it."

Charles started to struggle. Erik wrestled him over to the sorting table. Charles almost broke away, so Erik backhanded him across the face. Charles stilled and clutched his bright red cheek. Erik tore Charles' clothes off. No matter how often he saw his pale, freckled skin, his strong shoulders and arms, his solid torso, those thick thighs and that lovely, uncut cock, he couldn't get enough of it.

"You might say you don't want this, but your cock says otherwise."

"No, Erik, no, don't do this," cried Charles, struggling again.

He was so convincing Erik paused to look him in the eyes and check he wasn't serious. Charles gave him an impatient look.

"Oh, you want it, you know you do, you dirty slut," hissed Erik.

"No, no, no!" protested Charles.

Erik grabbed some of the broad fabric tapes used for tying up thick files. He manhandled Charles onto the sorting table on his back. He lay down on top of him to keep him still and bound his wrists and ankles to the table legs. Charles begged and pleaded for him to stop. Erik climbed off him. Charles was spreadeagled on the table. His face and chest were flushed with red. His chest was heaving. His deep pink cock bobbed against his belly. He arched and writhed in his bonds, a virgin sacrifice to the gods of the mailroom.

"I'm going to enjoy this," said Erik. "I going to take my time. I'm going to make you scream."

"Please, no, it's not too late to stop," sobbed Charles.

"Oh, it's way too late for you. You're finally going to get what's coming to you."

Erik undressed, draping his clothes over a chair. Charles' clothes were all over the floor. He climbed up on the table and straddled Charles' chest. He slapped his face with his cock then brushed the head over his lips. Charles kept his mouth tight shut.

"Better open up and let me in unless you want me to fuck you dry."

Charles gave a little sob, then opened his mouth. Erik pushed his cock between those perfect cherry lips.

"Suck me like the filthy cocksucker you are."

He sucked at Erik like it was the most disgusting thing he'd ever done. Erik started thrusting. Charles' eyes filled with tears. They overflowed and trickled down his temples. Erik put his hand to Charles' cheek so he could feel the movement of his cock in Charles' mouth. He thrust harder and deeper, hitting the back of Charles' throat. Charles choked and his throat spasmed. Erik pulled out and touched the tip of his prick to Charles' eyelids. He sat there a moment, admiring the drops of sweat on Charles' forehead and the contrast of his blue eyes with Erik's red cock.

He climbed off him and grabbed a couple of bulldog clips. From bitter experience he knew they were way too tight for nipple clamps, so he worked away at the hinges to loosen them. 

"I've got a present for you, Charles."

He sucked his nipples to prominence, then closed a clip on his right nipple. Charles moaned and his back arched in a perfect bow. Erik put a clip on his left nipple.

"No, no, please, it hurts, it hurts, take them off, take them off, please."

"But you look so pretty with them on. I've got another gift for you."

Erik took a rubber band and held it to Charles' erect cock. He pulled it back. Charles' eyes went wide. Erik let go of the rubber band and flicked Charles' cock with it. Charles let out a strangled shriek. Erik kept flicking his cock; the head and up and down the shaft. Each flick made Charles jerk and shriek. Finally he stopped. Charles struggled for breath.

Erik gave his prick a soothing stroke.

"Poor baby, poor boy, I won't do it anymore."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," babbled Charles.

Erik grabbed a date stamp, set it to his birthday and stamped Charles all over the belly and the thighs.

"I'd like to brand you, Charles, but this will just have to do."

He dangled some Sellotape in Charles' face. 

"What do you think I'm going to do with this?"

"You said you weren't going to hurt me anymore," quavered Charles.

"No, I said I wasn't going to flick your cock with a rubber band anymore."

Erik tore off a section of tape and stuck it to Charles' balls. He ripped it off, taking quite a bit of hair with it. Charles screamed and screamed. Erik kept going until Charles' balls were mostly hairless. Charles screamed himself hoarse.

"Oh, you should see yourself. You look like some rent-boy who's just got himself ready for a trick who likes jailbait."

"Stop, Erik, oh, God, please stop, I can't take anymore." His voice was scratchy from screaming.

"Almost done. Now, since you sucked me so nicely, I'll use spit to fuck you."

"I've . . . I've got lube in my jacket pocket."

He sounded desperately ashamed.

Erik laughed and kissed him on the mouth and then the cock.

"Why, Charles, you dirty, dirty boy. Packing some lube, just in case. You really would make a great whore."

He snagged the lube from Charles' jacket and got up onto the table. He knelt between Charles' splayed legs. He eased Charles' ass up on his thighs and parted his cheeks. He tapped at his hole.

"Stop, Erik, stop. You don't have to do this, please, I'm begging you."

Erik smiled. "Except your hole is begging for my cock. You should see it clenching for me."

He pushed a lubed finger into the tight pucker. Charles moaned and shifted. Erik prepped him briskly, verging on brutally. Two fingers. Three fingers and a bit of attention for his prostate. Charles let out a long sigh and pushed back on Erik's fingers.

"You slut, you're loving this finger fucking, aren't you? Wait till you get my cock inside you."

He pulled out his fingers and lubed up his cock.

"I'm going to sodomise you, Charles. Sodomise. I love that word. Sounds like you're some Victorian virgin I'm about to violate. The Sin of Sodom and Gomorrah. Hah! Here it comes you little tart."

He pushed in. Charles froze and then whined and sobbed. Erik thrust into him, jolting him in his restraints. He was tight and hot and lovely. His ass felt like velvet inside. His rectal muscles clenched rhythmically on Erik's cock. Erik circled his hips. Charles shuddered and groaned like his soul was being torn out of him. Erik had obviously hit the spot. He kept on targeting Charles' prostate. Every now and then he'd slap Charles' painfully hard cock. They were both dripping with sweat. Erik knew he was close. He reached down and flicked the bulldog clips off Charles' nipples. Charles yelled as the blood rushed back into them and the pain really kicked in.

"You're mine, Charles, you're all mine, say it, say it," growled Erik.

"Yes, yes, yours, all yours," whimpered Charles.

Erik took hold of Charles' cock and started pumping furiously. At the same time he upped the pace of his thrusts.

"Take it, take it, you bitch," he yelled.

Charles quivered from top to toe and spurted come over Erik's fingers and his own belly. His ass clamped on Erik's cock like a vice and pulled him over the edge. He shot his load deep inside Charles.

They lay there, sweating and breathing.

"Are you all right?" asked Erik.

"Oh, darling, I'm better than alright. The bulldog clips were inspired. Thanks for loosening them off for me, they were just right. And flicking my cock with a rubber band - magnificent."

"I'd better untie you."

He had to use scissors to slice through the tape. Charles' wrists and ankles were rubbed red raw where he'd been bound. Erik knelt and kissed the marks. Charles gazed at him with such fondness.

They both forgot all about Erik's parcel and it was delivered to him the next day by a puzzled mail clerk.

"How it got right up on that top shelf I just don't understand."

Erik smirked to himself and wondered if he should buy Charles nipple clamps for his birthday.


	12. Boardroom Bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for knife-play and blood-play. To avoid, read to the second set of asterisks ( * * * ) then skip to the third set.
> 
> So, this is the end! Please let me know what you think of this chapter and of the fic as a whole. As always, thank you for reading, kudoing and commenting :)

They'd been together for two years. Everyone at work knew they were a couple. Newcomers were soon clued in, especially if they flirted with Charles. Most of the time they made love - and it was making love - in their apartment. Every now and then they'd mix it up with a session at work. They'd never been caught, though they had a close shave with a security guard and were almost stumbled upon by a delegation of Japanese visitors.

"I like everyone knowing," said Erik, "Knowing you're mine."

"And you're mine," added Charles.

"Of course I'm yours. Talking of "knowing", did you know - hah - it's used to mean sex in the Bible?"

"Is it now?"

"Yes. Hey, let's get biblical, baby. Beloved, thy neck is like unto an ivory tower. Thy breasts are as a flock of goats upon the slopes of Mount somewhere or other. Thy thighs - "

Charles pulled away from him, looking quizzical.

"First off, how can breasts be like goats? Hairy? Smelly? Contributing to desertification? And a flock? Surely most people have only two breasts? Secondly, are you implying I have moobs?"

Erik proceeded to show Charles he did not think he had moobs and even if he did, Erik would love them.

* * *

The first time they argued, Erik thought it was all over. He kept waiting for Charles to ask him to move out (he'd moved into Charles' apartment). In the end Charles said:

"What is it, darling?"

"Just put me out of my misery, Charles. I know you think you're being kind, but it would be kinder to get it over with."

Charles stared at him in bewilderment.

"Whatever are you talking about?"

"The fight we had, the massive shouting match, all the hateful names we called each other; I know we can't go on after that."

A slow grin dawned on Charles' face like a lovely sunrise.

"Oh, Erik, everyone has fights, it's normal. I've had much worse with Raven and with previous partners. You just try not to say anything unforgivable, apologise and carry on."

"You do?"

"Yes, dear," said Charles, in such a patronising tone he ended up getting a spanking.

* * *

Erik had finally divulged a particular kink to Charles, one he thought was pretty extreme. Charles had seemed dubious, so he dropped it.

They were in a late evening heads of department meeting. Charles had seemed a bit odd all day. Nervous, as though he was anticipating something. Erik decided he'd ask him what was up once the meeting was over. Emma brought the meeting to a close. Everyone hurried off as it was late.

"Charles," began Erik.

"Shut the fuck up," growled Charles, grabbing Erik's tie and choking him with it.

What the fuck?

Charles whipped something out of his pocket. Something shiny. It was a knife. Erik's pulse rocketed, his heart hammered in his chest. Oh, fuck, he was going to do it, Charles was going to play out Erik's deepest, darkest fantasy.

"I'm sick and tired of hearing you talk. Hearing the shit that spews from your lips. I'm sick of you calling me a slut and a cocksucker and a whore. I'm sick of being called filthy and dirty. I'm sick of being used and abused by you. Now it's my turn."

He stepped back, holding the knife out towards Erik.

"Strip."

"And what if I don't?"

Charles grabbed Erik's tie again, held it taut and sliced it in half.

"Bet you thought this was blunt, didn't you? Just think of all the other things I can cut off if you don't do exactly as I say. Just to give you some incentive . . ."

He took hold of Erik's shoulder in an unforgiving grip. He brought the knife to Erik's throat. Erik went completely still. Charles cut through the knot of his tie and sliced off his collar button. He worked his way down Erik's shirt, severing his buttons one by one. Oh, God, the snick of the knife through thread, the way the buttons popped off and tumbled to the floor! Charles tugged his shirt from his pants and cut off the remaining buttons.

"Now, are you going to strip for me or am I going to have to slice up more than your clothing?"

"I'll do it," said Erik, voice shaking.

He struggled out of his clothes, coordination shot to hell. Just as he was about to pull his boxers off, Charles stopped him.

"Wait."

Charles ran the blade over Erik's fabric covered cock. Erik couldn't breathe. Charles pulled the material away from his flesh and slowly, slowly dragged the knife blade through the cloth. His boxers fell to the floor.

"Hmm, you'll make a very satisfactory dildo."

He pushed Erik backwards till his knees hit the seat of a chair. His legs buckled and he sat down, hard. Charles backed off, never taking his eyes from Erik and keeping the knife pointed at him, and scrabbled in his briefcase. He pulled out a long length of red rope. He walked over to Erik. Everything about him was transformed. He walked like a predator, like some big cat going to devour Erik whole.

"Hands behind your back."

Erik obeyed. Charles tied his wrists together, then came round in front of Erik and knelt to tie his ankles to the chair legs. He straightened up.

"I went on the internet to learn how to tie someone up without cutting off their circulation. You wouldn't believe the things people do to each other." He sneered. "You probably would believe it, being the disgusting pervert that you are."

He dragged the chair and Erik over to one end of the boardroom table. He walked down to the other end and leapt onto the table. God, the power in those thighs! Charles stood on the table, eyes fixed on Erik. He put the knife down and started to strip, tugging off his tie, peeling off his jacket and then his shirt, revealing his dark nipples and his ripped chest and arms. He kicked off his shoes and dragged off his socks. He unzipped his pants and pulled them and his briefs down in one swift movement. He was more than half hard.

He picked up the knife, put it between his teeth, got onto his hands and knees and crawled down the table towards Erik. It should have looked ridiculous. It didn't. It was electrifying and terrifying. Charles reached Erik's end of the table. He sat down and put his bare feet on Erik's thighs. He twirled the knife between his fingers. He smiled, wide and feral.

"Don't do this, Charles. You can still stop. If you go any further they'll be no going back, you'll pass the point of no return. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Erik's voice shook. He wasn't putting it on, it was quite genuine.

Charles laughed. He'd never heard a sound like that from Charles' lips. Cold. Cruel. Vicious.

"Oh, Erik, Erik, Erik. I've only just begun. You've humiliated me in every way possible. You've fucked my mouth and my arse. You've come all over me. You've beaten me. You've even pissed on me. Now it's your turn to suffer."

He leant forward and seized the arms of the chair and dragged it closer. Erik's face was directly above his cock.

"Suck me."

Erik hesitated. The knife darted out and pressed against his neck. He could feel the tip against his skin, sharp and cold.

"Suck me," snarled Charles, baring his teeth.

Erik bent his head, the angle was uncomfortable, and took the head of Charles' cock in his mouth. The knife withdrew. Charles tasted salty and musky and smelt rich and earthy. Erik started sucking. He hollowed his cheeks. He bobbed his head. Charles' fingers tightening in his hair, he could feel the handle of the knife, and he started fucking Erik's face. His cock hit the back of Erik's throat. He gagged. He couldn't breathe. His eyes streamed. He choked and retched.

"That's it baby, that's my good, little cocksucker. You love it, don't you? Love sucking cock. Wish I had a whole queue of guys ready to face fuck you. You'd take it all, wouldn't you? They'd fill you up so good you wouldn't have to eat for a week."

He pulled out. Erik drew in great gasps of air. His chest heaved. Tears ran down his cheeks.

Charles put down the knife. He reached back to snag his jacket. He got a plastic wrapped something out of the inner pocket. He unwrapped it. It was a medium sized dildo. He gave it a squeeze. Lube trickled out of the top and trickled down the sides.

"Clever, isn't it? Hollow, you can fill it up with lube. This is what you are, Erik, a dildo. That's all. Not a person. Just a thing. An object for me to use as I see fit for my own personal satisfaction."

He stretched his legs wide and leant right back, exposing his hole. He slid a finger into himself.

"Mmm, that feels good. Watch me, Erik, watch me."

Erik couldn't have torn his eyes away from Charles' broad finger breaching his hole if you'd - hah - held a knife to his throat. Charles took his finger out and replaced it with the dildo. He gave a little grunt as he pushed it home, which Erik found unbearable erotic. Charles slid the dildo in and out of his reddening hole. A little line of lube gathered in a ring around the rim of his asshole. Erik got hard just watching him and listening to the obscene noises he made. He fixated on his hole and the dildo and Charles' dangling balls and erect cock.

"Look, Erik, look. This is you. A dildo. My dildo. A disposable sex toy, that's all you are. Oh, mmm, aah, yes, yesss."

He pulled the dildo out and sat up. He hitched to the edge of the table, leaving a lube trail on the highly polished mahogany. He squirted lube on Erik's almost completely erect cock. A few vicious tugs by Charles and Erik was wholly erect.

Charles picked up the knife and put it to Erik's throat again. He shoved his knees between Erik's thighs and the sides of the chair. He hovered over Erik's cock.

"Don't, Charles, don't. I'm a person, not your toy."

The knife scraped his neck.

"My toy is all you are."

Charles used his other hand to position Erik's cock, then slid down, slow, slowly, slowest. He moaned. So did Erik. He was bathed in sweat. So was Erik. His chest heaved. Erik gasped for breath. A delicious flush spread from his cheeks, down his chest and to his belly. His cock stood scarlet and proud against his stomach. He felt so hot and tight around Erik's cock. His blue eyes stared into Erik's green ones. He raised himself up until just the tip of Erik's cock was still inside him, then plunged down. Erik howled. Charles started working himself on Erik's cock, his prick snapping on Erik's taut abdomen.

"What a good dildo you are, Erik. Tell me what you are."

"I'm a good dildo."

"Whose dildo?"

"Yours, I'm your dildo."

Charles stopped moving. Erik sobbed:

"Please, please, please."

Charles drew the knife down Erik's throat to his collar bone.

"I'm going to mark you so you never forget this, so you always remember you're nothing but my dildo."

He slipped the point of the knife into Erik's flesh and drew a thin, thin red line across his collarbone. Erik let out a choked scream. The cut burned. Charles dipped his head and tongued at the wound. Erik trembled and gasped. When he raised his head his red lips were painted even redder with Erik's blood. He kissed Erik and thrust his tongue into his mouth. Erik could taste the copper of his own blood.

Charles threw the knife away and bounced up and down on Erik's prick at a frantic pace, thigh muscles bunching, dripping with sweat, breathing harsh and irregular, cock slapping against their bellies. He grabbed Erik's hair, pulled his head back, bent his own head to Erik's collarbone, put his mouth to the cut and bit down. He clenched his rectal muscles on Erik's prick like he was trying to tear it clean off. Erik yelled and came balls deep inside him. Charles shuddered and came between them so hard a few drops shot up and spattered Erik's chin.

He fell against Erik, a hot, sweaty, dead weight. Erik could feel the rapidly cooling come sticking their stomachs together like pornographic glue. He rested his head on Charles' shoulder. They sat still and quiet for a few minutes, peaceful and content. Erik felt a depth of serenity he'd never experienced before. Charles sighed and said:

"Well, we can't stay like this all night."

Erik gave him a sort of hug with his chin. Charles clambered off him. Erik watched entranced as come snail-trailed down his inner thigh. He untied Erik, tutting a bit at the red weals on his wrists and ankles. He produced a small towel, baby-wipes and a large band-aid from his briefcase.

"You know I wasn't sure about this scenario, thought it was a bit too full on, not my thing, but I enjoyed it tremendously. I still prefer you to dominate me, but I think I'd quite like to reverse the dynamic every now and then."

He started gently cleaning Erik off with the towel. Erik felt something welling up inside him. Charles had tried something he wasn't sure about because Erik had wanted to. He'd brought dressings and antiseptic for crying out loud. He was wiping Erik clean with such tender care.

"I love you."

Charles smiled. "I love you too, darling."

"Marry me," blurted out Erik.

Charles froze in the middle of dabbing at Erik's cock. His summer-sky eyes opened wide. His ripe-cherry lips parted. Oh, fuck.

"You don't have to marry me, I'm perfectly happy with what we've got, no pressure, there's plenty of time, we never have to get married if you don't want to, we can just live together, don't think I'm dissatisfied, I've never been happier, you're right, it's a stupid idea, forget I said it, dismiss it from your thoughts. Marriage? Never heard of it," babbled Erik.

"Erik," said Charles, eyes shining, looking like a sweaty, blood soaked, come smeared angel, "I'd love to marry you."

"You would?"

Charles nodded and threw himself on Erik. He accidentally brushed the cut on Erik's collar bone, which is why Erik cried. He certainly wouldn't have cried for any other reason. When they'd kissed and, somewhat repetitively, told each other they loved each other, Charles laughed and said:

"I can't believe you chose now to propose, immediately after a bit of knife and blood-play."

Erik grinned. "We're going to have to come up with a story for mama."

Charles snorted. "God, yes. We can't possibly tell her you asked me to marry you just after I'd sliced you up and used you like a human dildo."

* * *

Next time they were at Edie's, they waited until she'd gone inside, then arranged themselves appropriately, Charles sitting on the bench under the rose arbour, Erik down on one knee. Edie appeared with a tray of rugelach. She stopped when she saw the scene beneath the yellow roses.

"Edie," cried Charles, "Erik just asked me to marry him."

He looked radiant. He was an excellent liar. Edie shrieked and threw the tray into the bushes. She embraced them and fussed over them and asked to see the ring (plain, white gold, with a small sapphire set flush with the band) and gloated about how she'd lord it over Mrs Silbermann. Then she started laughing.

"Oh, Erik, you proposed under the "Golden Showers", my boy."

"Mama," groaned Erik.

Charles howled.

"You know she'll tell everyone," said Erik, gloomily.

They were curled up together in his way too small childhood bed.

"Most people won't get it," said Charles.

"She'll explain if they don't," muttered Erik.

"I've changed my mind about marrying you," said Charles.

As he immediately added, "I want to marry your mother," Erik wasn't unduly worried.

"Well, you can't marry my mama. First, you're a goy. Second, I'd still want to fuck you and since you'd be my stepfather that would be all kinds of disturbing, plus you'd be being unfaithful to my mama."

"Oh, Erik," sighed Charles, "so vanilla."

Erik proceeded to prove to Charles just how vanilla he wasn't.

* * *

The Head of Security came to see Emma on a Monday morning. It was an unscheduled appointment.

"You remember how we were having trouble with someone pilfering valuables from the boardroom when the occupants were having a break and had left their bags in there?"

Why was this moron telling her something she already knew?

"Yes," said Emma.

"You remember how we set up a couple of hidden cameras?"

"Yeeees."

"You remember how we caught the culprit red-handed so I had one of my guys go in and remove the surveillance equipment?"

It had been a temp, thank heavens. Emma would hate to think of one of the permanent staff betraying everyone's trust like that.

"And?"

"You might want to take a look at this."

He handed her a memory stick. Emma plugged it into her PC.

Oh. Oh! OH! She paused the recording.

"Has anyone else seen this?"

"No ma'am."

"I take it I can rely on your total discretion?"

"Yes ma'am."

After he'd left, Emma restarted it. She turned the sound right down. She was going to take this home with her where she could enjoy it to the full. Those filthy, filthy, imaginative boys. It got to the end of the sex and she was about to turn it off, when Erik proposed. Emma squealed with joy in a manner she would deny to her dying day.

She watched them fucking three more times. She watched the proposal seven times. She was going to have to find some way to reference this in her wedding speech (because Erik would be asking her to be his Best Woman, he just didn't know it yet). Nothing too obvious, but enough to let them know she knew.

Emma smirked and the light pinged off her teeth like the reflection from a diamond.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this you'll love the remix by IreneADonovan: [The Post-It Fairy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11451153)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Post-It Fairy (It's Office Not Orifice Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451153) by [IreneADonovan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan)
  * [The Stapler Satyr (Another It's Office Not Orifice Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11499159) by [IreneADonovan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan)




End file.
